COMPOSITE

• Republic of Tea’s Chocolate Strawberry herb tea is a nice way to hydrate one’s self.

• Jim tells me often how much he likes how I decorated the house. My style suits him better than the old-timey traditional look he lived with before. See? We are simply perfect together.

• I am this person all the time.

• I stopped by World Market this morning because I am out of key lime curd. Well, so was World Market. A helper asked if I needed help, and I asked if I was just not seeing the curd I was looking for. He said they were out. Then I spied a big jar on the bottom shelf labeled Key Lime Tart Filling. “Is this like curd?” I asked. “What are you wanting to do with it? Make a dessert?” “Well, no. Make breakfast. I like key lime curd on my English muffin.” “So it’s like you’re having pie for breakfast?” “Exactly. Pie with a whole wheat crust, which means it’s, like, healthy and doesn’t count.” “That’s a really good idea. You’ll love this stuff.”

• While I like to be a knower of things, there are certain things about which I don’t mind being ignorant. One: weed. If it’s your thing, okey dokey. Just ain’t mine. The first time I smelled pot was when the wasband lit up in the kitchen a few years ago. I think I was, like, 29.

• I may know nothing of pot, but I know pretty much all things about candy. I am 75% accurate when identifying things dipped in chocolate.

• My right shoulder hurts. Usually it’s my left shoulder that gives me fits and sends me to the freezer for ice and the drugstore for Advil, but the right one was feeling neglected and decided to start hollering. So I’m doing a really good job achieving balance in my life.

• I live in a place where the people you pass on the sidewalk wish you a good day.

• Exactly how enamored am I with the man I married six or so months ago? Well Jim got a new passport and I made him pause to discuss how handsome he looked in the photo. I got a big eye roll off that one. But good laws he looks handsome in that post office art.

• I was walking into a medical building and saw an elderly woman just standing next to her car parked in the handicapped space. The passenger door was open, she had a trickle of blood running down her forearm, and she looked to be sort of staring down at the floorboards. Only what she was staring at was the man on the asphalt who had fallen out of the car. She had tried to catch him and instead caught her thin skin on the door latch. A big man with a broken back who was heading in to physical therapy rushed over to help. I helped. Between the three of us—a weakling drug rep in high heels, an old lady with blood coursing down her arm, and a heavy man with a broken back—we maneuvered the frail sir into the passenger seat. It was a great show of spontaneous raggle-taggle solidarity, but even as I scrunched down to lift the old fella’s feet into the car, I wondered if this was some elaborate ploy to kidnap, rape, and off me. I should consume tamer audiobooks.

• While my body overall may not be what I wish it was, I will say that the more vinyasa-ing I do, the more awesomer—auto-correct had a fit over that little grammar transgression—my arms get. Don’t ask for a photo. Bitchin’ though they may be, my arms are as unphotogenic as my face.

• I called on an office this afternoon where the sign-in sheet told me that I was number rep eight of the day. Two more drug pushers were queued up in the waiting room. On behalf of the whole pharmaceutical industry, I apologized to the receptionist for the relentless hassle that can be drug reps.

• Regarding audiobooks, I’m listening to Atlas Shrugged. Again. It will only take 64 hours of listening to take in Ms. Rand’s ideological masterpiece. Wanna feel like being a human is glorious? Read that.

• P.C. or not, I must say that smoking a cigarette in your car on the way to yoga seems a whole ‘nother level of stupid.