I had the entire evening to myself last night -- a rare occasion in which both Ivan and Shobhit worked all evening, and I had no particular plans of my own.
I didn't even have to deal with that car that was parked in our spot in the garage, as it was gone by the time I got home. And before I went upstairs, I went over to Old School Frozen Custard because I wanted to take advantage of their Flavor of the Day, one of my favorites: Banana Cream. It's great with Rese's Peanut Butter Cup topping and I can rarely resist it.
I came back home and, after having that dessert first, made myself a veggie burger for dinner. I watched the latest Netflix comedy special by Jerry Seinfeld, Jerry Before Seinfeld, in which he performed a lot of his earliest bits in the Manhattan comedy club where he got his start. I rather enjoyed it, which means the only thing I found disappointing about it was how short it was -- 61 minutes -- and since there's a lot of segues into him just talking about his early days, I'd say maybe only three quarters of even that time was straight up standup. At least Marc Maron's latest special was all-standup and was a solid 70 minutes or so. Side note: Maron is starting to look pretty old. Or maybe it was just the stark lighting on one of those close-ups of his profile. It was a little jarring.
I'm the only one who lives in my place with any particular interest in standup. Ivan has clearly zero interest whenever I watch it. Shobhit rarely pays much attention to it, so I have long tended to watch it while he wasn't around. Tommy never seemed all that interested either, although he did hang around to watch a fair bit of it when I watched Alec Mapa's wonderful Baby Daddy special. The cats, of course, have no appreciation whatsoever for comedy. They wouldn't know a joke if it hit them in the ass! Anyway, an evening at home to myself is the perfect time to watch a comedy special.
Especially when they don't happen too often, I really appreciate these occasional evenings all to myself. A bit of alone time can often hit the spot, especially when you're often with someone who has a persistent, almost desperate need for attention.
I read my library book for a bit, and even hoped I could get a good chunk of it read. I read while walking to Bartell Drugs a bit later because I needed to buy a new bottle of Resolve carpet cleaner. The old bottle was empty and left on the bathroom counter, suggesting Shobhit had used the last of it to clean up the latest pile of cat puke. I didn't want to risk having more puke before I had a new bottle, so I went to get one.
But, even though that book is one I am enjoying, it's been overdue since last Friday, racking up a quarter per day in late fees. Maybe I can manage to finish it this weekend; I have nothing major planned. As of today I owe the library $1.75 for it. I'm going to break the bank! Anyway, I don't know why it's so difficult for me to get through even books I'm enjoying (and this one, Eddie Izzard's memoir, I actually am enjoying) very quickly. Short attention span, I guess -- easy distractibility. I kept looking at Facebook and Twitter when I could just as well have been reading.
Also I was tired. I fell asleep at 10:00.