1161 WiFi in the Wilderness!

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

I'm sitting in the pizza parlor in the village writing this. Guess what? We've got WiFi in the village! Free and unlimited. Also unsafe, but ok, I can cope with that.

I stopped in to see Piper today. I was on my way to the museum when I saw his car parked in front of his office, and he's not supposed to be driving with his broken foot, so I was concerned.

Yeah, he's driving. Bad boy. But there are complications - his lady has just been diagnosed with breast cancer, will have surgery next week, I think. So I guess he thinks he has to take a load off her by getting himself around. I pointed out that she's going to need him long term, and that means he can't mess up his foot any more than it is. Can't delay healing, so no messing with it.

I pulled out the laptop to show it to him, and that's when I found out I could get a connection. So I was there most of the afternoon. Piper had to visit a customer across the street, so I was able to "pay for my keep" by answering phones and taking messages.

I intended to go to the museum today and handle the membership stuff, but got sidetracked by the sight of Piper's car. I guess that's the top "to do" for tomorrow.

------------------------------------

Later.

I got a small pizza with sausage, onion, and green pepper and brought it home. It's huge! I wonder if she gave me a medium by mistake. I've eaten 1/4 of it, two slices, and now I don't know what to do with the rest. I wonder if wild turkeys like pizza.

Something strange since Jay died. I never much cared for sugary desserts, especially things like chocolate cake. Chocolate cake, brownies, stuff like that, feel like they gum up my mouth. I don't like the heavy taste. Jay loved anything heavily chocolate, the gummier the better. I've also never much cared for Italian food in general (with the exception of warmed-over day-old leftover homemade spaghetti), and I didn't care for pizza in particular.

Jay had to have pizza once a week at least, or he suffered withdrawal. I usually ate a salad while I watched him scarf pizza.

Since he died, I have periodic strange cravings for chocolate cake, and for pizza, about twice or thrice a year. It'll start one day, and over three or four days it'll grow to where I can't think about anything else. So I have to go get some (cake or pizza). The strangest part is that I don't even enjoy it (well, sometimes maybe the cake), but I know I have to eat it or I will have no peace.

So that's why I don't know what to do with the leftover pizza. I won't want pizza again for three to six months, so there's no point in putting it in the refrigerator. I don't like pizza! (Next time I'll know better - the village pizza parlor now serves individual slices.)