Morning Minutiae

Seven thirty.

While I was at the store I heard three old tunes on the radio that Cathy had on for background noise: the bands were the Chili Peppers, John Cougar, and Journey. Cathy wore a sloppy green sweater that looked good on her today. She is very adept with the price scanner, hitting the barcodes of the items in your hand unerringly, like something uncanny. It must be a right brain thing for her, but she didn’t remember very well about the Journey song, which happened to be “Separate Ways,” from the album Frontiers, released in 1983. My memory for the dates of events and things is probably a left brain kind of faculty. I hovered in front of the pet snacks for a minute, trying to decide among the different sizes of milk bones. They were also priced differently, which made no sense at all. You can slice a pizza into eight pieces or twelve, but it’s the same amount of food either way. Or you can scrap the whole thing and make applesauce. There are some birds cheeping outside my front window, and it’s cloudy right now, a gray and ordinary morning. I’ve always liked Cathy, though we don’t know each other beyond seeing each other at her workplace. She’s certainly catty with the barcode scanner. 

Foggy Morning

Quarter of ten.

I’m trying to stay relaxed and easygoing this morning. I slept poorly from caffeine consumption. No more Snapple tea for a while. It’s scary when I can’t breathe normally. The city is fogged in, and it must be cold out. Roger is pottering with some project and probably muttering about politics. Often he turns on his radio to conservative talk…

At the market, Vicki is learning the new computerized register. It was installed yesterday. Again, it’s cool to see them upgrading the state of their business. They’re probably doing very well with sales. Karen offered me a donut, so I had the glazed one. I can barely remember the first time I had a double chocolate donut. I was with my mother in some restaurant. I was surprised that donuts came in chocolate, and she was surprised that I’d never had one. Her mood was more cheerful that day. In fact, she didn’t become so perpetually negative until I reached high school and college.

Eleven o’clock. A frequent customer of the salon, who was having her nails done, told me she liked my shopping bag. I thanked her and told her where I’d gotten it and who made it. The bag depicts an American flag, with stars and stripes in red, white, and blue. A small nonprofit in Alabama hires blind and disabled people to put together such products in order to give them a sense of self esteem. I don’t remember how I got started buying from them. It was likely a cold call… Anyway, it was nice to get a compliment on it. My book of Washington Irving just came, amid Aesop’s maniacal barking. The driver left it by the garage door.