Last weekend I made a road trip to San Antonio. I didn't bring any extra pen caps. Recently, I changed my needles from the original, ultra long to the small ultra fine, and in moving from my house to my apartment, and then from the apartment back to the house, I just left the old originals in the back seat of my car. After about two months of using the smaller needles in supreme comfort, I was stunned at how much longer the original needles are. I thought for sure the needle would actually go straight through my arm; though, at first, I thought I should probably hit up a trendy gym or rock climb or start moving milk around at the grocery store-- ya know for the toning. When the needle didn't go through my arm, I was relieved.
During my short tenure at the apartment my former wife and I shared, I never bothered to look at the letters the complex sent us. I assumed they were for rent payments and things of that nature, but never actually bothered to look, or even open the envelopes. In a particularly desperate attempt to put my life back together, I went to our old mail box and picked up the mail. My uncle had sent us a check congratulating us on our marriage. They are happy for us. Were? Anyway... also, there was a rent notice underneath that. I opened it, hesitantly, only because I just didn't want to see both of our names on the bill, and saw that we actually owed them $200 more than I had expected after various fees and service charges were applied. Luckily, only my name was on the bill.
I looked in the mirror this morning and found a dashing gentleman staring back at me. I postured, hoping he would notice my dashing good looks as well, and that we could be friends. As I postured, he postured, until I got the sneaking suspicion that he was mocking me. What an egregious offense against good taste! I promptly disrobed to find my own scarred ass looking back at me. But, my mirror image was laughing at me.
And oh how I felt so nominal....
Huh?
Quixotic