I suppose it's not exactly legitimate to call in sick to work just because I drove my brother to the airport at 4 o'clock this morning and I am tired. but legitimate or not, it's what I've done and now it's noon and the itch to avoid feeling bed-ragged from excess sleep is forcing me to figure out what I must do.
priority one: vacuum and wash the little car that just arrived from minnesota by my sister's piloting. we'll be sharing it now, and I cannot stand to drive a car that no joke looks like it hasn't been vacuumed in about two years. plus I have a little bit of an ocd vacuum fetish, so it's not like it's all chore and no pleasure.
I've lived out here for four years and this weekend was the first time that my brother has visited in that time. his thirty-two hour vay-cay after driving here with my sister and before flying back again this morning. yesterday I took him on the tourist tour and he loved it. "tourist sites are important!" he said. "if I can talk to someone else who's only been here once and say, 'yeah! I've also been to coit tower, muir woods, and the golden gate bridge,' then I'll be glad. these things make our common culture!" I've become proficient at the tourist tour. got a routine down. over the bridge and through the woods to the crooked street and so on. as we drove around yesterday I kept thinking of how completely tired I am of sleepy east bay living. it's fine, but I think a large reason we all pay so much to live here is for the actual city across the bay, and I'm tired of living at the edge of it. by summer. maybe by summer I will move there. I am tired of rooting for the underdog city when the underdog just won't ever be on top. even just in my head.