Zombie Charms

Today my dad was sitting on our leather love seat today watching a bad super-agent movie. He was also drinking a beer and eating lucky charms dry out of the box.

I love my dad.

I was reorganizing yarn the other day. The yarn is kept in wire-mesh cubby deals, and each skein is wrapped in a paper label. These labels tend to catch on, well, everything, and they tear. They catch on the wires, they catch on the hanging tags, they catch on each other, and they tear. Part of my job was to tape the labels back together after they rip. While doing this, I realized that the yarn is just like the victims of zombie attacks. It would be smarter to have sturdy, tight fitting clothes, rather than loose paper labels.

My socks are crazy stripy today.

I ordered lunch today, and the cashier woman sort of grossed me out. She was, as part of her job, handling the money and cards that people were using to pay for their pasta. She was not wearing gloves, and, without washing her hands, she reloaded the forks and napkins. Now, I know that her hands were probably not teeming death traps of virus menaces, but money isn’t clean. She also breathed on the forks. I know I probably ought to have said something, but I didn’t know what to say.

I made the most delicious quesadilla today. It had goat cheddar, green olives, and salsa inside. It was crispy and nearly perfect. The only way it could have been better is if I had fried the cheese before putting it together.

When I was tiny I walked into more than one rear-view mirror.

I really dig pencils.