I'm supposed to call in at 9; that was number minutes ago. Story of my life. Pedaling down the -landform- legs still numb with sleep and person's name's on the radio barking about where the hell was I and no one's been answering him all morning- once he gets that off his chest, of course, it's just "sit tight" in boston neighborhood.
So I stand in line at coffee shop for nearly number minutes staring at the back of some overcooked secretary's body part, and then the second I hand over the $price for the dixie cup of hot liquid in my hand, nextel goes off and I get 3 pickups- 2 objects going to cambridge and a drydock. Coffee button, always. I start some band name on the music player and start moving.
An hour and a half, 6 35 mph wind gusts, 2 insulting adjective jaywalkers yelling "Pedestrian!" and 15 parking violations later, I'm finally about to verb the Longfellow on my way back through town carrying a long narrow object with number unbillable minutes of wait time, a couple of downtowns and that drydock, burnt to a crisp by now. Almost to the bridge and right on cue I have to verb around at Kendall and verb back out to verb on Norfolk st. Their stairwell always smells like noun. While I'm there, 1030 Mass Ave calls in another noun. Of course they did. I've run in there all adjective so many times the receptionist must think I want to verb her.
The bearings in my bike part are verbing the bed and it seems to be a matter of time before I end up with the stem in my internal organ. But of course I'll wait until the last possible moment to deal with it; could be worse. Hell, Jeremy's bike part has been fused to his other bike part for 5 years- when I can make aluminum rust, I'll verb.
Knock out a couple of rushes downtown and run down Milk towards 177 so I can stop at Goulston on the way out to the dirty bird, where i've miraculously gotten a pickup, and some bearded adolescent I've never seen before appears inexplicably humping his bike the wrong way by the corner of Batterymarch wearing the adjective-est article of clothing I've ever seen, and I don't think I manage to wipe the look of physiological reaction off my face until someone else pulling a sudden moving violation gets my attention back on the road.
It's getting close to noon with no noun, but I'm verb-ing against the wind down Seaport Blvd and the smell of fermenting grain verb-ing out of the open doors of the Harpoon brewery is sticking to my internal organ like sticky liquid so I'm not feeling very adjective at the moment, but once I get back downtown I know I'm gonna have to start thinking adverb about what's cheaper, and what's not too adjective to eat. And Jane's discount isn't for 3 more hours.
Ever notice seagulls always giving humans the adjective eyeball out at the dirty bird, wondering if they could grab one of us and go up 50 yards, whether we'd crack on the pavement like mussel shells? I saw one attack a noun on the sidewalk outside 250 Summer one day.
Must be noun hour on a nice day- suddenly no one's verb-ing in jobs, must be because they're all out verbing in the middle of the outdoor place. The guys are all wearing the same color noun, and the girls always manage to find a new style of adjective shoe that they can barely verb in every summer, except for that one year that everyone wore noun. It's hard not to notice these things when you verb outside all day;