Things in the day I like so far

Richard
Things in the day I like so far
Willo Café, June 7, 2007

I get dressed to go to work and think I’ll take a short walk before the staff meeting. It turns out to be Sunday.

Laurie cooks eggs with cheese and veg.

On our walk, we bump hips. I’m in such a good mood I don’t despair at the streams of huffing, barrel-chested men with “Army” emblazoned across their chests. They dart up and down my park, their trainers shouting, “Give it everything you’ve got,” even though they have the rest of Arizona for maneuvers.

Back home, dogs next door are barking. Laurie becomes incensed which calms me right down. I tell her that everyone has gone to church and the mutts are complaining. She phones our landlord, the lugubrious Paul, who comes over to deal with the situation and while he's at it changes the filter in our air conditioner. He says he’s never seen one so clean but expects no less from Laurie. How does he know she’s a good cleaner? I’m proud.

The neighbors return and quiet the dogs. They promise never to leave them alone again and tell Paul they had gone to church. It's great being right.

I take a nap on our sofa and dream I’m a parrot with brilliant blue, red, and yellow feathers. I’m trying to cross a road in heavy traffic, and despite some close calls my feathers aren’t crushed. I tell Laurie the dream is about feeling guilty for having a good time with her while Suzanne is unhappy. She doesn't say anything, and as a consequence we don’t fall out.

We visit the Phoenix Art Museum and Laurie gets us in for free using a not-so-kosher press pass. I like that I don’t have to do anything. In one of the galleries I get huffy with a docent who says my bag is too big. Laurie is fine with me being an idiot.