I went to the grocery store for comfort junk after the dentist. The cashier chatted me up in an irritatingly vivacious manner. I had a big dead face so wasn't much for conversation. I said, "I'd smile at you, but I've just been to the dentist." She said, "Oh, I feel the same way!"
Which was bizarre, and meant she either misheard me or wasn't listening at all. It's an interesting thing, though, to think of: what would make you feel like you'd been to the dentist, other than going to the dentist? I may start saying that when I'm crabby. You make me feel like I've had a root canal. Can't smile. Sorry.
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I ran into an old college friend. She hugged me, which was ok but odd, because although she's very nice, we never hugged when we saw each other all the time. We just weren't that close. Now that we see each other only once or twice a year, there are hugs. Hugs As a Measure Of How Far Apart We Are.
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Nobody ever, ever has the same birthday as me, until today the evening news mentions someone who does, and it is a grandma-stabber.
The news also had this to say, earnestly: "Details on the latest terror alert, and questions on whether a plot may soon exist." (emphasis mine) What the hell. They couldn't pack any more wishy-washy caveats into that if they tried, so I guess I won't panic just yet.
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I dreamed about two garter snakes - one old and tired, one who had a full belly. The old one stretched in the sun. They scared me less than other snakes. They were all right. Someone asked me if I was going to take those snakes home, but I left them in the garden.
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If I were an action-adventure-comedy, I'd be Guess Who's Coming to Dinner. If Logan were a documentary he'd be Deep Blue Sea.
