This will surely make the more nervous of you, you know, nervouser, but I can only write you for a few minutes, as I have the jury duty and need to be downtown by 8:15, which, WHAT THE HELL, judicial system? Annoy.
There is, in fact, a sort of major trial starting today in my town, and I wonder if I will be a part of that. Please note that I did not end that sentence with a question mark, as it was not a question.
This is my latest Thing That Bugs.
“I thought you were going to Tijuana?” See, that’s a statement. You do not need that goddamn question mark. ARE you going to Tiajuana is a question. Didn’t you go to Tiajuana is also a question. But a sentence that starts with “I thought” is a statement.
“Help?” Oh my god THAT BUGS. Not a question.
Anyway, this weekend I painted the trim in the hallway, which was exciting and I got to see my cute paint store guy again. Indifferent. He was indifferent. Why is a 23-year-old black kid indifferent to an old white lady?
I’ve also been reading this book that one of you told me about. It’s written from the perspective of Caroline Ingalls of Little House fame, and the writer did all sorts of research to figure out what Ma was like on the INSIDE. Answer: Nicer than me.
The book store guy was all, “Oh, I loved that show.” Perhaps you will be on the jury where you don’t convict me of murder seeing as I had to snap his neck.
When I wasn’t painting or sitting around in pajamas reading…
I was at the farmers market. “Farmers,” in this case, does not get an apostrophe. I know it FEELS like it should. But they do not own the market.
I perused and eventually purchased mums, for m’front window area, and once I hung it I realized it was way too big and it looks like I’m hanging the be-fro’d head of Helen Willis from The Jeffersons out front of m’house.
Which believe it or not was not the autumnal feel I was going for.
You’d think with all their money that the Jeffersons would have sprung for a better oil painting.
Anyway, at the farmers no apostrophe market, I also played with the depth feature on my phone.
I ran into a fun person I worked with at a job two jobs ago, and the last time I ran into her was the time I went to the grocery store in a pajama top, thinking, Oh, no one will see me, and then I saw seriously 9 people during that trip. The day I have on my prom dress and a professional blowout? No one. Bupkis.
I’d better go get ready to be a part of our judicial system.
Tough but fairly,