last week was Spring Break from Law School.
i spent the time visiting different parks around Fort Worth with the PSE and the Monster and i spent way way way more time sitting in my closet, working on school projects.
[see yesterday's post]
but between the incessant tattoo of school work and brief glimpses of a happy life i had a few other things to take care of.
as follows:

the PSE went to the Public Library early in the week and came home with a book for me to read.
i didn't ask for a book, but the PSE is thoughtful.
i haven't read a book for pleasure in months and months but this was a book i wanted to read.
i finished the book in six days in three bubble baths and however many times i had to sit on the toilet.
book report to follow on Sunday.

it was also just nice to get to sit and have a bath a few times.
if let to my own devices i would have a few baths a week, sit for several hours, soak and read, maybe masturbate, but, because school takes up so much of my time, i've had to resign myself to showers.
our apartment here in Fort Worth is probably the least capable of accommodating my bath-time needs.
the tub is cramped and small like all apartment bathtubs are, but, unlike any other apartment we've lived in, the hot water runs out really, really quickly.
you get just enough hot water to fill the bathtub half way and then it goes tepid.
to solve this, the PSE boils me several pots of water on the stove and pours them into my bathwater.
after a while, the hot water heater will regain it's powers and hot water will come out of the tap again, but, without the intermediate step of the PSE boiling me bath water, the whole thing would be unenjoyable.
i feel like Laura Ingles.
thanks, PSE.

at some point during Spring Break i had to go to the Credit Union across the street to get a piece of paper notarized.
the paper was a single-sentence declaration i typed up that read “i am am indigent.”
i know that that's not grammatically correct, but i think it reads funnier that way.
the declaration was for the people at the Department of Public Safety, to renew my concealed carry handgun license.
the renewal fee is $70, or, $35 if you are an indigent.
if you are an indigent they want you to prove it in some way.
the suggested preferred method was to send in copies of your tax returns but, fuck that shit, so, i went the notarized personal statement route.
mind your business, guys.

of course, i find it offensive that i have to pay any money at all to be able to carry a gun around with me everywhere i go.
i find it offensive that my right to self defense is even qualified by having to ask permission of the state to do it.
i've got a natural right to defend myself, irrespective of the laws of man, don't i?
also, this is fucking America, innit!?!
but, i guess having to come out of pocket $35 plus a pleading of indigence is better then having to live in New York or California where you can't get a concealed handgun license at all and people go about knifing each other all day long.

i don't know if a trip to the credit union across the street qualifies as something i enjoyed, but it was nice to get out of the house for several minutes.
the staff notary had a lisp, i think.

some other day the PSE and i took a walk to the Central Market grocery several blocks away to buy $50 worth of groceries.
the Central Market has been mass-mailing coupons to our apartment complex lately and most of our neighbors just throw them out because poor people don't shop at Central Market because it's not trashy and gross enough so we've been up to our elbows in coupons we pick out of the trash by the mailbox.
we've been getting $10 and $20 off when we've been buying $50 worth of groceries and, since we've got to eat groceries, we've been happy to take that deal.
we've also gotten free pints of ice cream, sheet cake, and way more pounds of chicken then we'll ever need.
the ice cream isn't just any ol' ice cream, it's bourgeois grocery designer, artisanal, small-batch ice cream, whatever the fuck that is.
we had first a pint of lemon and rosemary shortbread, then Vietnamese Cinnamon.
apparently if you're not eating Vietnamese cinnamon, you're eating the wrong kind of cinnamon.

one day i went with the PSE to the store and we took Monster with us because Monster is a pussy and can't be left home alone.
we've taken Monster with us to the Central Market dozens of times over the past eight or nine months but for the first time, some terrible shrew stopped me at the front and detained me while she called for her manager.
i told her tersely that Monster was a service animal and that should have been the end of it but the fucking cop made me wait there for several minutes so her manager could “verify.”
after a livid few minutes the manager came around and waived me into the store, but i was still outraged by the whole experience and it might have soured the affection i have for the upscale grocery.
i came home and started drafting an indignant letter, but i stopped because i had other, real work to do.

Friday was St. Patrick's Day.
the PSE made a corned beef and cabbage.
i do not like cabbage, not boiled in meat juice, anyway, but, this is how we celebrate Irish people for some reason, so that's what we did.
the corned beef came out good.

on Saturday the PSE and i had sex.
the PSE and i don't do that very often, so it was noteworthy.
we said we would aim to have sex at least twice during Spring Break, but, given our tendency to not have sex at all we'll call it a victory to do it one time.
just this afternoon, the PSE and i had sex once again.
a nooner, or, a 2:50pm-er.
i slept late because it was my day off and the PSE came to wake me up with a rare sexual enthusiasm.
i was supposed to be working on my Trial Brief for school but, sure, PSE, there's always time for you!
i even licked at the PSE's puss for a few minutes.
the first time i did that on American soil since, 2012, maybe.

//[ab irato ad astra]

September 2017

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