The rain is hitting the window and the lightening is illuminating my room. I am listening to Carla Bruni and sipping Charles Shaw’s White Zinfandel. Should I stay here and drink more cheap wine or head over to the grocery store and stock up on food? It’s true, I’ve done nothing but eat crackers the last few days since my cupboards are bare. Maybe the grocery store is a good idea.
Lisa said to me the other day, “There’s a girl at work who’s a gimp. There’s something massively wrong with her leg and hip. She kinda hops around, dragging her bad leg behind her. She’s married. Someone wanted her. Why do you suppose no one wants you?”
I had no answer for her.