the remaining 12 hours

i always feel like a fucking nerd for going out by myself and doing my typical brynnthings on friday nights. i feel like i should wear a sign that says "i work tomorrow... friday's just another night." i never feel uncool about being alone on, say, a tuesday.
i am at oddfellows, my business plan almost complete. all i have left to do is list my personal, professional, and financial goals for 2011 and 2016. i have already done 2010... the list included "reacquaint myself with my stove, bed, and pencils." anything further out than a year becomes an amorphous, slightly intimidating mess, one i cannot relate to. who knows? i could be incapacitated in a year. i could be knocked up. i could be ravenously in love and moving to minsk. i refuse to plan anything. is it a coincidence that, in the meantime, very little gets done?
i take that back. i have been a motivated motherfucker of late. yes, my new scrubs arrived at work and i blurted "yay! i don't have to do laundry for another week!"... but all my plants are hydrated, the litter box is clean, the controlled drug audit at work has been done, and i finished "eighty-sixed", the sunday crossword, three mix tapes, and all but the last 30 pages of "methland".
i received a reply from the international spay and neuter project today. i am on their contact list now. you must pay your own travel expenses, but they'll drop you in, say, jamaica (the foundation is based there but they travel globally), and you sterilize piles of local beasts. i have wanted to do this for years. all it took was an email. life can be so fucking easy.
i don't know how widespread the story is, but an officer was blatantly gunned down this weekend in leschi (about 5 miles from my house). his trainee (she'd only been on the job a month) ducked, getting grazed across her back; he died instantly. there has been a collossal hullaballoo since- legitimately. i like cops. when they fuck with me, i usually deserve it. and nobody ever deserves to be killed... unless they're hurting a kid, or an animal, or anything innocent... and then they are a fucking antithesis to society and deserve to be removed from the gene pool in the most concise way possible.
the funeral was held at key arena. i was walking down there (in the sunshine! see post from earlier. the clime has since returned to the icy stab-rain, colder than balls) to the post office; i had forgotten about the funeral until a man jaywalking said, loudly, "what a fucking lot of cop cars." there were hundreds. there were squad cars from portland, missoula, and boise. there were parking authority carts. there was an ambulance. there was a vintage 1968 seattle pontiac police cruiser. and atop the building neighboring the key arena, there was this:

i have already read the snarky blogosphere (i did not use that word) comments about this... "why the fuck did they need snipers?" and i sort of agree.
as i walked by this afternoon, past the entire region's law enforcement gathered within one building, i couldn't help but think: this would be a great time to commit a crime.
i immediately felt like an asshole.
the cop was young, 39, with two kids and a wife. he was just sitting in his cruiser and got fucking murdered.
i felt lucky to be able to see the bombastic clouds as i continued walking downtown. i feel lucky for a hell of a lot of things. i appreciate. tremendously. sometimes i must remind myself.