Crunchy, Yet Chewy

A peculiar thing was going on at the discount department store: everyone seemed to be speaking another language, everyone was very angry, and nobody listened to anyone else. To those people, I showed a very gentle face, brimming with the humility of a person not necessarily capable of doing the job they were, and in the end that doubt proved to be the truth. Today, I quit the part-time job. For about ten minutes I was relieved, then started to worry about money again.

If you're going to develop an after dinner craving for Triscuits and cream cheese, make sure your manicure is dry. Trust me on this one!

When I'm nervous over a long period of time, I develop a short-term fixation on some character on the ABC soaps. Currently, I want Larry, the little black cat bent on stealing your soul, to feel healthy and cantankerous. I want to find a spiffy way around offering my landlord Monopoly money. I want my back to stop aching and making me feel like Methuselah. Yes, I want lots of things. But boy oh boy - I really want Bianca to get her baby back. I want that more than chocolate, more than Italian pumps, more than a clear, wrinkle-free complexion. More than I want Mick Jagger to quit making records, I want Bianca to get Miranda back. I want that a whoooooooooooole lot. I want it! So I can tell I'm anxious.