Drawing Crazy Patterns on Your Sheets.

Et tu, Matt Smith?

You know, some things are just darned funny to watch. Like two Boston College girls attempting to start a dead car in a dark parking lot. Or a stern faced business man running to catch a subway train that has just closed its doors. Or ducks. Or bunnies. All hysterical, let me tell you. It's amazing what you can observe by just watching.

This week has really been an observing week for me. Not that I've been particularly observant. I've just seen a lot, if that makes any sense. I've seen that man running for the train. There's actually been a run of running for trains, as it wasn't just him, but others as well. There are those two girls behind my apartment building in the parking lot. They're there right now, actually. I can't seem to figure out whether the car has died, or whether it's run out of gas... oh. Wait. There's definitely a gas can involved. I sympathize now, of course, rather than judging, since I have indeed run out of gas before... or would have if you hadn't loaned me ten bucks. There have been ducks, or rather, birds that act a great deal like ducks, but aren't ducks, since ducks are not seabirds. Matt and I have taken to calling these particular ducklike animals "rock-sitters," since they do a whole lot of just sitting... on rocks. I don't know what they are, but they're funny to watch. They stretch their wings out like the Batman insignia, and I imagine that they're lighting the Duck Signal, or rather, the Un-Duck Signal. Maybe there are such things as salt water ducks. I don't know. Google doesn't seem to know either.

The bunny thing was a lie. I really haven't seen any bunnies lately.

On Monday, I saw a man in a red polo shirt hauling a huge cart full of trash into the loading dock-slash-dumpster room in the building my store happens to be in. I was just minding my own, when Red Shirt Man wheels his trash cart in, and I noticed from my elevated position on the lift near the dumpster that Red Shirt has a wooden stick with a knife duct-taped to the end of it. He started to scream, "I'm going to kill you!" and "I'm going to f-ing kill you!" and other such lovelies, all the while stabbing the cardboard boxes at the top of his cart of trash with his wooden stick knife. I watched, dumbfounded, as he watched me, screamed, and stabbed his boxes. Not knowing what to say to him, I stupidly managed the only thing that came to me: "I'll be just a minute." I think he must have said "yeah" or something, but then only went back to his box stabbing.

Weird stuff. I mentioned it to my boss when I got back in from my trip to the dumpster, and he apparently knew who Red Shirt was, since he asked me, "Was he wearing a red shirt?" I guess it's a 7-Eleven employee that's gone off his meds. But, as a wise man once said, "That's not a valid reason to be allowed to threaten someone." Truer words have ne'er been spoken. So, wise up, Red Shirt. Swallow THAT bitter pill, why dontcha?

Today was relatively uneventful in the observing business. I did watch a bunch of auditions for a musical theatre directing class this evening, and one of the auditioners spoke his entire monologue to me. At me, more like it, come to think of it, since I wasn't really invested in what he was saying. I just kept thinking, "Why's he looking at me?" And then I couldn't look away, because I also thought that since he was auditioning, and was probably nervous, I should just be The Person He Could Look At, and deal. In case you were wondering, staring down your auditioners is not a good tactic for an audition. I can't even remember what his name is.

And now, for me... the sweet, sweet smell of sleep. Until tomorrow when I wash the sheets.

It's all over now, Baby Blue,
Meredith