Slippery time

No time, it's the story of my fucking life right now because it's report season. Even less time as I've finally given into addiction and started watching the rest of Weeds. Co-opting my time, just like the Sopranos did, except Weeds has even more plotholes, like why didn't the Armenians rat out Nancy's operation when they were arrested? But it's funny and feeds my taste for brainless quirk. It's either that or Jackass repeats - I find when work is too hard I need the sort of pablum I'm usually all judgemental about when I get home. The F-word told me a statistic about how something like 90% of America's Funniest Home Videos viewers were college-educated professionals in executive jobs. I can believe it.

Today I have no time because I have to get to work early so I can leave work early and go see les flics about my permanent residency card. And then I will do so, and wait, and get home and get high and eat a nice dinner and watch Weeds. And life will whizz past until it is Friday and one of my aunties back home has her funeral. The parents told me yesterday that she'd died all of a sudden-like on Monday and I can't believe it - it hasn't registered that I'm not going to see her anymore. She was sick the last time I saw her, but no sicker than she'd been for the last twenty years, as far as I could tell.

And now she's gone, and life is whizzing past, and time will roughly peel away the people I love like a drunk chef tackling an artichoke. And I too will be roughly peeled off, leaving the people who I love that are left artichoke-naked and tender, and what the hell is the point of all that?