Like you're always stuck in second gear

Today has been
something. I don't know what. Wierd? Good? Bad? Fuzzy? Strained? I woke up late, as habit has it these days. Went downstairs, ate lunch, watched tv before I had to leave for work. a little before I had to leave, Mimosa came home. She's been in Boston for 4 days, and I was really happy she was back. But she had been up since 1 am, and I hadn't picked up the newspapers the whole time, and she picked at me about that for a bit. I got up and ran the dishwasher, and she left, saying 'see you on sunday' WTF? Turns out, she's going down to Santa Cruz till then. Well damn. That was a whirlwind dissapointing nagging visit. Anyway. I go to work, I work a little. I talk to Fred a bunch. We meet up with Christine, and go out to dinner at a Thai place. It was good. But sad. A little. Not sad at the time, but for what it meant, and thinking now it is. Anyway. I went and ran the show, and it went fine. I didn't miss any cues. I visited Kelli before the show, blahdy blahdy. During the show, I finish A Million Little Pieces (more on that later). When I got home, the house was clean and there was anote on the whiteboard in Kelli's handwriting saying "BBQ Chicken pizza?". Shit. I ate it last night while I was talking to Paul. I thought it was Mimosa's and I would just buy her another before she got back. Oops. So naturally, I assumed that Kelli got home, tired from concessions, discovered her pizza missing, looked around at the disarray of the house, got really pissed, cleaned it all in a fury. Fortunately, Mimosa was the one who cleaned. So I will get Kelli a new pizza tomorrow morning. And maybe she will forgive me. I have to be up at 6 30 or something to take my mom to her car, which broke down today. She's on the verge of going and buying a new one. We'll see. My dad had the surgery yesterday, it went well. They put a big bolt in his elbow. I wonder if he has one of those cards saying he has it for when he goes through metal detectors.
So, James Frey. I've been thinking about what I think of it, and I think this is what I've come up with. I like, but in the same way that I liked A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius. They both start out interesting and compelling and new and all that, but towards the end, they just run out of steam and get tiresome. I wish I hadn't known anything about this going into it. I think I wouldn't have believed it. There's a few things, particularly towards the end, that read very much as fiction. And that may have been my growing disenchantment. But I really felt some deus ex machina in there. But it's a good story. I understand why the pulishers wanted to put it under memoir. It's more compelling that way. Whatever. I'm done. For now.