One by one, I wade my way through my list. Will one week be enough time before I leave?
I have my cellphone unlocked, so it can switch over to a new company, saving me $50 a month. The checkbook begs to be balanced, but I put it off, in lieu of a much-needed haircut.
And I’m thirsty, and end up with a bottle of something I’ve never seen before - Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper, suspiciously marketed as a soda fountain classic. Hmmm. My first sip reminds me of the lip gloss of that one Indian girl I kissed back in junior high. Cripes! How’s that for an unearthed memory? What was her name? Brenda Blackfeet, I think. I can’t be sure. But it doesn’t matter, because as soon as I swallow, I forget all about Brenda Blackfeet and her coal black hair and her artificially sweetened lips. I swallow and my mouth tastes like I’ve just come from the dentist. I take another swallow. Yep. Dentist.
With freshly buzzed hair I turn the car in the direction of home. To the desk! Onward!