in the morning my stomach is spazzing out from the previous evening's dinner, no doubt. i spend a lot of time on the can. the maid's arrival makes this a bit awkward.
after things settle down, i head to the big supermarket to stock up. before i've finished my guts are turning over again. i buy my stuff and get out. i lift the platic bags out of the cart and my double bagged beers go crashing to the ground and explode near a little boy. thankfully he's unharmed. in shock, i inspect the bags and they are easily the shoddiest things i have ever seen. those that didn't break are on the verge. by now a crowd has gathered to watch me and the small river of beer and glass that has formed. the security guard tells me to talk to the manager and i'd get new beers, but my agitated gut tells me i don't have time. i shove the remaining groceries into my sturdy backpack and rush home, letting the store staff sort out the mess.
after more nursing of the gut, i find my way to the guitar shop, and succeed in buying a cheap indian made ebanez (yes, a rip off of ibanez) guitar. here, the good guitars are, amazingly, the chinese made ones, while the bad guitars are indian made. they don't even bother with american imports.
i spend the rest of the day eating tandoori chicken pizza, watching movies on cable, and playing guitar. it's nice to have a home.