It must be time to check in, because even though I have nothing to say, and all the days are running together, I still have this compulsion to write. Or at least to post an entry to forestall the rumors. I havenít been abducted by Swiss soccer hooligans or caught in the crossfire at a smooth jazz concert. Iím still here, alive, and well. Well, well enough, I guess.
Because I had to get the Kennel payroll in the mail, I had to make two trips to the post office today. One was at my usual late morning time, and it was uneventful. The other was in the middle of the afternoon, and it reminded me why I always plan my errands for the morning. People drive like idiots in the afternoon, for some reason.
And they park side by side, one car facing each direction, on a two-lane road so the two drivers can chat. And they donít move when someone in a green Saturn comes up behind them. They act as if they donít see the Saturn, or as if itís the most natural thing in the world to block traffic so they can have a conversation. What, they donít have cell phones? Everybody (everybody but me) has a cell phone, right? Put each other on speed dial and get out of my way.
Yesterday I also had to go to the post office in the afternoon, because the tree trimmersí truck was blocking the end of my driveway all morning. I could have asked them to move, I suppose, but Iíd rather pout and wait them out and then drive around them (and smile and nod) after theyíve moved their truck down the road to block the next driveway. For some reason itís more satisfying that way.