I went to the mall last week to see a movie. I decided not to have any popcorn but I wanted something to crunch on. So I went to the top floor of the mall to the little corner candy shop, found some peanut M-n-M’s, filled a small bag, took it to the register. She said, $6.95. I gulped, paid her, went to the flick, feeling like I’d just been candy-raped.
A thought I had about my writing and trying to sell what I’ve written: “It was like dropping stones in a pool of oil—not even a ripple as they sank into the depths, nothing to indicate they’d ever been dropped.”
Several years ago we saw on the news a 92-year-old lady who had walked across the country from California to D.C. to show her displeasure with what was going on in the Oval Office. She was interviewed about how she had withstood the rigors of her walk and she said, “The days go by and the miles go by, and before you know it you’re there.” Wow! There’s a statement that applies to just about everything.
The most abundant elements on earth are oxygen and stupidity.
Quondo Omni Flunkus Mortati (When all else fails, play dead.)
If it moves, it’s biology. If it stinks, it’s chemistry. If it doesn’t work, it’s physics.
My train of thought just derailed. There were no survivors.
There are two means of refuge from the miseries of life, music and cats.
A short poem a friend of mine sent me: “We rest here while we can, but hear the ocean calling in our dreams, / And we know by morning, the wind will fill our sails to test the seams, / The calm is on the water and part of us would linger by the shore, / For ships are safe in harbor, but that is not what ships are for.” Thanks, Anne.