Adventures Between The Ears of Bookmark_Terry

I am at my laptop so much, the dust-bits that hang out between any two keys, are claiming squatter’s right.  Do you believe it?

I wouldn’t either.  In fact, they want more than that. They want a support group to help cope with the hostile setting I provide for them. That’s unbelievable!

It certainly is. Still, given this utterly ridiculous crisis, I decided to scour my whole apartment from top to bottom.  I even bought a steam cleaner to make it ‘stick’. I may be an Aquarian – allegedly a constant procrastinator — but not this time. I was going to expel those flecks of self-righteous, freeloading dirt. I’d do whatever it took and without delay.

Okay. I didn’t need to power-wash the whole place, especially given all the water damage it caused. Nor did I need to search every corner and crevice to figure out how it gets in. Dust may be like bellybutton lint (where in heck does it come from?), but I refuse to let it rule my life. I mean, my investigation took 172 hours.

Anyway, I’ll keep you posted. I’m so tired; I need to collapse on my waterlogged couch.

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Musings of A Woman Who Aspires to Be a Bookmark

Uh-oh. Brain Freeze. This is my third post here yet it is as intimidating as the first. How silly of me!

Anyway, today I want to recount for you a little incident at the supermarket yesterday. My friend and I were at the cash, crossing fingers and toes that somehow the scanner would burp and slash our grocery prices to, at least, a reasonable range. The very least I wanted from that cash register was for it to shriek in jest as it calculated the ‘customer appreciation day’ discount — which is, in other words, pretty much non-existent. Ah well! The struggle to survive goes on.

Anyway, as I stood there, a young mother approached the end of the line about a foot from where I stood. She was carrying her beautiful baby girl in a harness on her front and I instinctively cooed at the little one. As I admired her, the package the mother maneuvered around her baby’s body suddenly slipped from her hand and crashed down on my foot. Oh no! (My left foot was crushed twice over the years — once pinned under the back tire of a taxi and in 2006, flattened out nicely by a wheelchair ramp on a local transit bus.). This time there was no searing burn in my foot! I was so happy. The wayward item was only a light package of diapers or something slightly heavier.

“I’m so sorry”, the concerned woman said. She cradled her baby’s kneecap nervously and I marvelled at how tiny that little person was.

“No worries.” I smiled at her. “No problem at all.” My friend and I exchanged a grin at what had just happened. Funny little events like this were par for the road for me.

Suddenly, I leaned in a little closer to the mother, speaking very quietly. “I would sue but . . .” I said, touching the wee girl’s shoe with my right hand. “I really want this little beauty to go to university.” We shared a giggle as she sighed in relief.

Secretly, I wondered if she really knew that I was just kidding. When that mischievous streak flushes adrenalin through me, it’s just so hard to resist. I headed home cash-poor but, as usual, anecdote-rich.

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