Egg-a-Mooby-Muffin-Plant

Matt Smith,

I saw you this morning. I'm glad you washed your hair and that you're "clean" now. I washed my bellybutton, so I'm "clean" now too.

I feel so unproductive.
Summer's awfully conducive to that particular feeling, but this summer more than others, I think. I'm home -- I think that has a bit to do with it. Usually I'm packing up to go somewhere and move many of my worldly belongings to another part of the country. This summer I'm staying where I landed. Weird.
I'm working, which isn't altogether that odd, but I'm working at Starbucks, which is never something I wanted to do more than once. What's more, I'm good at it, which makes me wonder if I actually have a brain. Yes, I'm working at several things OTHER than Starbucks (Matt says I'm Jamaican), but nothing's really off the ground yet. Maybe next week when my sell-out, smarmy public speaking position starts and I have to parade around in business attire, I'll feel like I'm doing something. More than likely, I'll just feel like a doofus.

I ate eggplant last night. You've got to wonder (and if you don't wonder, well, then maybe you work at a coffee shop) where eggplant got its name. I suppose it is egg-shaped, in a way, but it's also PURPLE. Eggs, to my knowledge, are not and have never been PURPLE. Maybe somewhere along the line there was a breed of purple-egg-laying chickens, and they found this plant shortly thereafter. And is eggplant a squash? Does it grow above ground? I can't imagine it would be a root. It's too squishy to be a root -- nothing like a carrot or a potato. Although it does go well with both.

I give you the above paragraph as evidence of my lack of productivity, and my lack of brain activity.

Ahoy,
Meredith