What’s Cookin’

Hard t’ say why the scene’s gone blink, had it

sorted okay until a few minutes ago – maybe

too seemly I think, like an aberration about to

dispose itself; too much of a coincidence for

things to gel so easy when you’ve started the

day already shivered with foreboding – like a

dour sense of impending shit about to hit the

fan, or a silently swinging boot up the jacksy;

First up my not-too-faithful laptop PC excretes

on me – expressive beast as it is this is hardly

a demonstration which wouldn’t be termed an

act of outright anarchy; you’re not thought to

be sentient I say admonishing it severely, but

a wasted protest as it plays its own game –

Then speculative figuring on how long it takes

the pump to refill tanks disintegrates; rising at

5 am to check suggests you’re way-off with a

view to stopping it before daytime rates apply:

okay, I can wait, and regarding whether there

is another way to fill in time wisely – forget it!

So here we are at 9:15 am – and having had

to re-effect time zone designation caused by

a system repair anomaly find I’ve gained an

hour before I knew I’d even lost one – gee, I

am so glad it wasn’t 24 hours or something

as catastrophically manic as that

© 27 August 2013, I. D. Carswell