After a difficult workout yesterday (and by difficult, I mean that it felt like I was running and stair climbing through molasses), I trudged to the metro, and trudged to the Tivoli Giant (the grocery store).
A young man was putting bananas out on display and I grabbed one bunch and put it in the cart. He said to me, "You could have taken them out of the box."
Now, I could certainly take this one of two ways:
a) I ruined his design and he was cross with me for getting in the way.
b) He wanted me to get the freshest bananas.
I'm not sure what to think, really.
And recently, one of my readers (but not commenters) told me that my blog was "all over the place." I reinterpreted the statement for him and said, "Yes. It has been fairly shitty (and perhaps a little emotionally overwrought) lately."
Funny thing is, I really don't care. In another life, on another blog I would have tried to make things more interesting, or I would have returned to writing about "smart" things. As it is, this is a self indulgent activity and to my great forturne and chagrin, some people seem to derive some pleasure out of reading it, or they at least waste some time--particularly now that Scrabulous has been removed from Facebook.
I've spent far too much time worrying about who is reading this thing and why--particularly in the past. Now?
Whatever. I refuse to give a crap.
I write. You read for whatever reason, or you stop reading for whatever reason.
I'm still going to write. Well, at least until I stop.