watermelon for breakfast

A random array of thoughts this morning led me to start thinking about my Harley Davidson hoodie. The most frustrating aspect about losing things, especially things you care at all about, is that you know that it is *somewhere*.... it has to be somewhere... you just don't know where. And after 6 years, I still wonder about that hoodie. Who has it? Where is it? Has it found its home in a landfill? Salvation Army? Someone's closet? And what would I do if I saw someone wearing it? Would I say something? I think I would. Unfortunately, I've realized that I keep a list of things I've lost in my head. It's frustrating.

Here's a nice song to listen to...

In all honesty...

I never know what day it is.

I put a pair of dirty socks in the trash can.

I went looking for trash bags in the refrigerator.



"Welcome to the world, Amos" (-Judah)