I'm living on red wine, baby carrots, and bubble gum pop.
I'm also dangerously below my RDA for Courier.
- Dropping an Airborne tablet into a cup of coffee refilled with water without first rinsing out the coffee
- Walking full speed into a horizontal pole mounted two inches above eye level
- Okay, walking full speed into a horizontal pole mounted at any level
- Collecting tiny, shiny pebbles from a beach in Oregon and then dumping them in your purse where six months later one of them can become lodged in the little slot on your cell phone where the charger plug goes, forcing you to spend twenty minutes picking at it with a pushpin until the pebble finally comes loose, but then you drop the pushpin on the floor and because it's clear and roll-y it takes you another five minutes to find it and by then you just really need a nap.
He walks into the train through the door at my back, so I only know he's there because he clears his throat and says, "Excuse me," to the passengers at large, the way people do when they're about to cruise the aisles asking for money. Instead, he sings two verses of "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen". He sings them well, and with feeling, and not for the first time I notice how odd it is to bring tidings of comfort and joy in a minor key.