coppers come hither

As per usual, there are other things I should really be doing, as I clappety clap away on this keyboard, at my desk, waiting for the police to arrive. Waiting for the police because I filed a complaint against a driver that sorta hit me as I was biking this afternoon. Damn drivers - I'm, of course, totally fine, was just nicked, but this silly fool tried to squeeze in between be and the cars that were properly giving me a wide lane's worth of grace, on a snowy road, with snowier gutters. All I'm hoping for (I didn't know it would mean a visit from the folk in blue) is that someone let them know that they hit me (though I'm pretty sure, by the way they sped off, that they do know). And all this because I was out trying to get an external hard drive for to back up this beast (I've lost faith, and am afraid). I say 'trying' because, once standing at the cash, I discovered that I'd forgotten my wallet and was thus trying to get home and back to the shop and then home again in time for listening to friends on the radio.

Since then, while waiting, I've cleaned, cooked, broken a glass, vacuumed up broken glass and mouse shit (shit!) from my kitchen, cleared away the dredges of R's pot-shared-with-friends (in anticipation of the law's arrival), hung 3 of mother's photos, listened to B interview Wayne on CFRC, listened to lots of CBC sounds, etc. etc. I have not backed up my computer, reformatted my disk, installed a new operating system, created anything beautiful, created anything ugly, created anything honest, created lies, thought about love (much), or done any work.

Some people love babies - C told me hier that she'll probably make one soon, I learned today that S is carrying #2 now (!). Babies are cute, but then, they do grow up to be less cute. Then what??