I'm sitting in a bar. 15 minutes to tennis courts. 65 minutes to get there. Some techno music on the sound system. Sports news on the abundant TVs.+
I'm sitting in my USA Quidditch t-shirt for reasons outside this particular consciousness steam. Talked to my sister about how to solve a particular little relationship puzzle involving her son, the registration papers on a car given him by his distant father and the need to preserve a fragile detente in support of having everyone who said son loves at his upcoming graduation and to have them civil and likable to one another. I think we nailed it.
Wondering why there's a Cowboys bandana hanging above the bar when it's April and 2 other Dallas teams are currently in the playoffs. (Hockey and Basketball)
Also wondering why the interim between work and tennis compels me to want to write and yet leaves me feeling rushed and unable to organize my thoughts.
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