Too many people pulled and pushed around, too many waiting for that lucky break

When I came home from work today, there was a guitar and amp set up int the kitchen. Matt. I grabbed a quick snack and he walked into the room. I asked him if he had a rough idea how long he was going to play because I was planning on practicing yoga in the adjoining room. He said he was planning on playing for at least an hour (and the reason why he was going to do it in the kitchen, he said, was because he couldn't find a three-pronged jack anywhere else, which seemed unlikely, but whatever). He asked me if it was important to me to practice yoga. "It is", I said, and left it at that.

He played and I went up to my room and got on the computer, activating my iTunes as quickly as possible in order to drown out the sounds seeping through the walls. It was over in less than an hour and I went downstairs and hit the mat. It  was a good session; my mind chattered but the thoughts were muted by the task at hand. Afterward, I felt refreshed and loose.

Thoughts of moving out have entered my mind more and more. Whether because of my own initiative or circumstances beyond my control (foreclosure lurks in sporadic whispers, a vague threat that could assert itself in a week, a month, or never), it's probably going to happen in the next few months. We'll see.

It's not a terrible situation where I live. Hardly. There are annoyances, but they're manageable. Yet, I'm growing restless and I wonder if the feeling will abate or increase. I'm still adjusting to Matt and the dynamic he presents. I think he's a good guy, but there is a bit of a hustler in him. Whatever, we're all fallible and what the fuck do I know, anyway? Still, there are things worth monitoring and the previous sentence notwithstanding, my gut has served me well. Since he's lived here, Matt has had two jobs and he quit both. I'm not overly concerned that he's unemployed - I have a sense that he'll land on his feet quickly - but the thought has crossed my mind that he may soon be unable to afford living here. We'll see.

Speaking of Matt, I'm hoping to meet up with him to watch the Celtics game. Shoot, it's starting now. I'll have to make some decisions shortly. Man, I don't have the time to get into how much I'm digging this Celtics team, but their success, which just about everyone, including their fans, didn't see coming, has been inspiring. When I heard they won in Miami the other night, winning their third straight, I felt good about things.

Went to my parent's house for dinner last night. Mom was sick, battling a virus, a strange bite on her neck, and the nauseating side effects of the antibiotics she's been taking. She held out as long as she could during my visit, but eventually had to go lie down. So it was just me and dad eating calzone and talking sports and birds (he's what you would call a buff).

Okay, time to go. The weekend looms and I see it smiling across the meadow waiting to embrace (or murder?) me. I'll have to do a little reconnoitering.

Fare well, my little cherubs. Remember to eat all your vegetables and please, please, remember to wash behind your ears!