Laurustina

This morning, my sister and I stood in line at the bank for fifteen minutes, only to realize when we reached the counter, that each of us thought the other had banking business to do. That long moment, after the teller called out “next”, and as the people in line behind us watched us approach the counter, each attempting to defer to the other, it was, I promise you, priceless.

I logged in today, only to see that I had eight draft posts, which is particularly pathetic, even for me. One was about movies (Pineapple Express made me laugh so hard that I snorted Diet Pepsi out of my nose, which I hadn’t done in much too long). Another was about a couple of books I just read, “They Shoot Horses, Don’t They” and Andrew Sullivan’s “Love Undetectable” which consists of three rather brilliant and wrenching essays. Another celebrated Solonor’s completion of my requisitioned cover of “House of the Rising Sun”, which deserves more explanation and kudos than I am going to give it here (hence the uncomplete draft that will be completed posthaste). The others are a mish-mash of holiday/family/angsty/nothingish rambling, which usually ends up getting deleted rather than posted, and in that way, well you’re not missing out on all that much. Now, if I don’t hit PUBLISH, I can see this post ending up drafted along with the rest, so here you go.

I’m wearing a contact lense from 2007 today. I found it in the back of the bathroom cupboard last week, all dried out and in a potato-chip crunchy state, but I hydrated it for a few days in saline solution and it is nearly good as new. I say nearly, because after eight hours, it is beginning to feel a little scratchy. I had an appointment scheduled with my optometrist back in December but had to cancel at the last minute. I hate rescheduling appointments after missing one, so I put it off and end up with consequences like scratchy eyes and such.