Last night Mom, Lisa, and I went to Big Lots. It was like a discount Target! Lisa bought tons of stuff. I was able to keep myself under control.

This morning I awoke at 7:00. My plan was to finish those darn performance reviews. Instead, I showered, dressed, ate breakfast and queued the Monkees: Missing Links albums on Napster. There is still some time to get 1 or 2 done before my 10:00 date! He’s a psychoanalyst and we are meeting at Starbucks for coffee. He is, of course, an eHarmony match. One of the shorter ones, in fact. I’m wearing my new, funky H&M shirt I bought for 5.50 and a pair of dungarees. I hope I am not too dressed down. His vocation worries me. What kind of a person is a psychoanalyst? Who would want to subject themselves to such crap? I can’t imagine it. It’s like doctors. There is no way in the world I would ever want to be a doctor. Touching people’s rashes, extracting blood and performing stool samples? It makes me ill just thinking of it.

On my flight back from Chicago, I sat in an aisle seat in the emergency row. A woman had beat me to the window seat. As usual I closed my eyes and leaned back, listening to my little RCA Lyra packed with Elvis, Tom Jones, and Dusty Springfield tunes. Some turbulence roused me and I looked out the window and noticed the woman was no longer in her seat! “Where did she go?” I didn’t feel her scoot past me, I would definitely have noticed that! I leaned back again but instead of getting lost in the music I tried to stay alert so I would notice a woman passing over me. Five minutes went by and I opened my eyes to check on my seat neighbor AND THERE SHE SAT READING A BOOK!?! Crazy.