"Mind thee divven't step in thon cakkie"

Ahhhh, spring in Boston. From blossoming puke-stenched Gingko trees in Cambridge to thawing dog shit on Beacon Hill, let's all enjoy the miasmic hum, shall we?

Oh, really, it's not that bad. I really do like spring. I'm just cranky from a tuna sub I ate last night that still seems determined to swim its way back to whatever ocean it called home. Oh, aye. Much more of this and I'll have to name the thing and get it a birth certificate.

But I just can't seem to work up the enthusiasm for spring just yet. I could do with a couple more weeks of hibernation. Maybe a kick-start is in order. I shall try the following very minor things, see if they spark a little so'sin' so'sin:

*A haircut - utterly sick to the back teeth of 'doing' my hair. Had it with the whole process of shampoo, conditioner, blow-driers, combs, brushes, whatever else, and still looking like Nick Nolte's mug shot by the time I get to work. Fuck it. Getting a crew cut, maybe even today.

Rock on.

*Meeting Sassy for a drink tomorrow. That'll at least change my routine from work to home and back to work. A little conversation, a few laughs, a few drinks - give me something to talk about other than what's for dinner and how tight the budget is until the next paycheck. (Hint: whatever paycheck you're on, it's always the one AFTER that.)

*The Red Sox home opener is on Friday. IF they can manage a win between now and then, and IF I don't freeze my substantial arse off, I should be able to muster some enthusiasm for baseball again.

"Bomber's ready...Bomber's away!" Champion.