So I'm at the hardware store earlier getting some jars which I'll fill with homemade granola for teacher gifts. Next door is The Container Store, and in the joint parking lot I spied one of the CS managers. This gal always looks faux-happy, like really, she's stressed out to beat sixty with just a hint of rage added to the mix. Is the organization too much for her? Does she hate the customers? I don't know but she seems as if her thin veneer of perk will blow at any second. Her visage never fails to remind me of a music teacher Jack and I once had in a mom-tot class. Her name was Serene which always struck me as terribly ironic because she seemed anything but. I wondered if she liked children. It is cold as get-out today, and I am giving away pumpkin cheesecake like it's my job. I don't know what to make for dinner tonight but I am certain it will involve Brussels sprouts.
Christmas is soon! In fact, it really just struck me that as we're leaving Saturday, I will have to pack in a few days. Noooo....
Do you know what sucks? Giving pills to cats. The pets saw the vet last week, and in addition to Nutmeg topping the charts of the cat obesity scale (a 9+ on a 9 scale; oops), he has some fecal thing, and so we have to give him pills for three days. Doing so is like trying to shove toothpaste back into a writhing tube (my friend Annie mentioned the toothpaste analogy recently; I loved it and added writhing here because Nutmeg writhes with the strength of a water buffalo; maybe because he's giant). Myself, I think he is wildly handsome in all his glory. But I gotta get rid of this fecal malfeasance.