I know and you know that the quality of the posts lately have been kind of “meh”. I personally blame the quality issue on the people around me. No one is doing anything outrageous. The most exciting interactions I’ve had have been those involving cars and even those are so “meh” they’re hardly worth repeating.  And the random folks I bump into on a daily basis are kind of friendly or when they’re not friendly, they’re not particularly unfriendly; they’re just people bumping through life.  Not a story to be had there.  (I realize that by making that statement I’ve doomed myself to some bizarre future encounter.)  The rest of the stuff in my head is more primal and of the “grr, rip throat out, grr, glare menacingly, grr” variety and supposedly if I want people to still hang out with me, I can’t use the stories as fodder for the blog.  HELP! I’m being repressed!

That leaves me with the only story I have at the moment involving a grocery store cashier whose step-mother is apparently bad at shopping.  He admired my assortment of foods that you could actually combine together and make things.  I proudly held up my list and shared my profound thoughts on list making.  (In other words, I said something like, “I’m cheating today.  I have a list.”  But it was HOW I said it that made it sound exceptionally wise.  I’m sure of it.)  He then praised me for weighing and labeling my produce.  I gushed about being OCD.  Then when he finished he asked, “Would you like to buy pistachios?” No.  “They’ll help me win a store prize of $50.”  Well, of course I will.  How could I not help the kid who thought I had the best groceries he’d ever had the pleasure to check-out? (Side note: Anna, when can you come pick this bag up?  Doesn’t your mom like them?)  He even promised to share part of his winnings, so I made a circular motion around my face and said, “Remember this face. I’m counting on it.”  As I was leaving his sacker asked admiringly, “wow, you sold one?  That actually worked?”  Young grifters today – they just don’t have the patience for the mark to be out of earshot.  Those are the kinds of stories I’m left with.

Now, some of you might think “if you don’t have a story, you don’t have to post”.  You crazy little dreamers, of course I have to post.  I mean what if you few, you happy few, were worried that something had happened?  You know how you worry about me all the time when the posts grow scarce.  (No, you do.  Well, you could try at least.)  These posts let you know I’m still alive and typing.  (Or that someone has my password and is posting in my name. We won’t dwell on that possibility.)

But let’s face it, the reason the posts have been more plentiful (and at the expense of the quality) is because I have to write every day for my sketch writing class and you’re occasionally my unwilling victims.  What’s the fun in having a regular writing assignment if there aren’t at least one or two victims? This is why I won’t shut-up lately.  However, I do want some props for not posting every day, which I easily could.  See, it’s like I’m sparing you and you’re really only having to endure the best of the worst.  Yes, there’s actually worst lurking away in the bowels of my computer.  Now aren’t you feeling at least a little better about these posts?

There is some hope on the horizon, however.  My class ends in about 4 weeks, which not only means you survived 4, but that in 4 more I’ll shut up!  Maybe. Ok, I probably won’t.