I had too many phone calls tesyerday, but the other one (actually it came first) that really sent me into a spazzy mess was from a guy who I worked with when I was still in photography. I had not seen or heard from him in about three years. He is still in med school (twenty six, now) and works at a hospital, finally, but what we always had in common was metal. He loves heavy music and always marveled at my widely varied taste for all music.
When the phone rang, it made me jumpzor for the umpteenth time yesterdayday and again, I did not recognize the number. There is wo nay for me to recognize voixces over the phone either, but the first words he said were my mane (as a question) and, "How's [little Dawg] (my son)? Is he as smart as ever?"
Naturally I was suspicious as hell, but he told me who he was then and I began to stim, like a leaf in the wind. I was glad to hear from him, but it was unexpected as HELL!
I also felt a little guilt from the fact that I had not tried to contact him in yhree tears. I began to stim-pace all around the house and out into the garage, down the driveway and back, until I became annoyed that it was raining on me. Eventually, I calmed enough to altuaccy have a conversation and I plan to get together for a bit.
He wants to trade about ninety GB of rock music that he has for a similar amount of my claccis jazz.
I'm not sure why I went off the deep end, just from a call from a friend.
