A matter of assessment

Someone called and asked how my day was going, and I found it easy to say that it was a perfect day. A great day. It was productive and pretty outside and anticipatory and easy all at once. I laughed and laughed at dinner. And worried, like I do, that I might offend the ears of people dining near me. You'll catch me retelling vulgar bits from something or other (today, it was a Robert Schimmel comedy special), hand gestures and all. And then you'll soon after catch me realizing that I'm in a booth within earshot of mothers and grandmothers and children and clerics. And I'll worry that the universal symbol for whacking off is an acceptable thing for a girl to be doing in a restaurant. My charged laughter does little to defray attention-getting.

The movie started too late, so the night was called earlier than planned. But it was a good day, I'm happy to report. And tomorrow has every reason to be at least as pleasing. Now, if I could just manage to not get ensnared by the blasted telephone...

For now, there's wine to finish, work to finish, a day to prepare for. All meritable attention-takers.