“You are beautiful,” he said to me standing in the check out line, the express line, fifteen items or less, people.
I have actually been told to get out of the line once by a clerk who clocked how many items were in my basket.
Yeah buddy.
“And so tall, tall and beautiful,” he smiled, I caught a glimpse out of the corner of my eye, touch too old, nice enough, but I’ve got somewhere to be and I just want to pay for my groceries so I can get back home and do al the stuff that needs to be done so that I can write my paper for Human Development class.
I ain’t got time to flirt.
“Thank you,” I said and pulled my wallet from my messenger bag.
“I bet you do not get told that enough, that you are beautiful, you really are, and that lip gloss, my, I’m just blown away.”
I smiled again, thanked him, and started packing my bag.
He wasn’t unattractive, but I was not feeling any attraction.
Possibly as I was also feeling the time crunch to get back to my house, I was expecting a lady to be dropping by to do some reading with me and I had laundry going, and I wanted to finish up my errands before she arrived.
“May I have just a few minutes of your time once you finish up,” he asked.
At least he was polite.
I appreciate that.
“I have somewhere I need to be,” I said.
“Just a moment, really, just a bare minute,” he smiled, trying harder, “I promise I won’t take up too much of your time.”
“No, thank you, I appreciate the compliments, but I really do have to go,” I said, paid, grabbed my bag and walked out the door, “have a nice day.”
He caught up to me and asked me out to lunch, coffee, anything.
I said no, but you know, it was nice to be asked and maybe if I wasn’t so busy and maybe if he hadn’t dropped the I live across the Bay bomb, location, location, location, it is everything, I might have considered.
It was a first though.
I have never been asked out in a super market before.
I do like that I am approachable.
I want to be approachable.
I want to date.
Not that I have the time for it.
But it’s a nice thought to have.
Dressing up.
Going out.
Being kissed in the fog.
My it was foggy tonight.
I was pretty drenched by the time I got back from my evenings adventure, doing the deal and stopping by a friend’s house in the neighborhood to hang out for a minute.
In fact.
It was pretty much starting to rain and I can hear the droplets falling outside my door.
The door to my super cozy and sweet little studio.
My very clean little studio.
Want to know the magic secret to keeping your house spotless?
Be in graduate school and have a paper you have to write.
Laundry?
BAM!
Done.
Bedding washed and bed remade, laundry folded and put away; floors swept, bathroom scrubbed, grocery shopping done, groceries put away, cooking for the week done, food put up in to go for work, dishes washed.
I actually almost started working on my spending plan for November, make sure I crunch all the numbers and get the scooter situation all worked out.
I wasn’t procrastinating, but I was getting damn skippy close.
I met my ladybug for an hour, I did some quick shopping in the neighborhood, picked up my mom’s birthday present, must to send tomorrow to make sure it gets to her, did my cooking, and ate a lovely lunch, looked over my notes and reader and text-book and took a big deep breath.
Then, yes, Mildred, I prayed.
It so helps.
Cleared my head.
Got me centered.
I sat down and I wrote.
And before you know it, 7 pages, 3,112 words.
BOOM.
I edited it, spell checked it, tidied it up a bit, and sent it out.
Three out of the five reflection papers for the class are now done.
I will have to do two more reflection papers and a final project for the class.
In the next six weeks.
Plus all the reading, thank you.
I have a gigantic paper due on November 17th for my T-Group class.
As well as a transcription I have to do by November 7th for Therapeutic Communication.
I don’t know what I’m doing for Psychoanalytics except trying to keep up with the reading.
After I finished my Human Development paper I read an article in the Psychoanalytical reader just to get my mind going in that direction.
Sweet, tender, little darling blog.
You are fast becoming a place where I organize my thoughts about what I have to do for school.
When was the last time I wrote about sex?
Or relationships?
Or stuff other than reading, writing, and more writing.
I should not beat myself up, I did have some fun this weekend, hanging out with my friend, going to look at scooters, in fact, I am transferring the money tomorrow from my savings account to my checking account and I’m calling my former scooter insurance guy at State Farm and getting that put together.
I am ready.
I even looked at star decals today.
Yeah.
I know.
But come on.
I got to have some stars on my ride.
And if I can.
Glitter too.
Just a little.
Heh.
And I have written about poetry and that has still been an amazing little experience that I will go back to every once and awhile and stroke it softly, like a murder face cat rolling around on the carpet, all purrs and sass, enjoying the feeling of awe still that I was given such a gift for my writing.
That the writing is the gift too.
That I have such abundance.
My clean little home, my stacks of books to read, my experiences, all that I have, all that I have to pass along.
All these rich little details of my life.
All the things indeed.
Soon to be accompanied by star poetry powered scooter love.
Giggle.
And more sass.
Because.
Why not?
Auntiebubba 