I have a secret, rather guilty, pleasure. Passing time I like to guess..ehm...make up my fellow commuters life. It can be the older married looking man on the metro gazing at the younger woman sitting across the aisle, the well dressed man in the Starbucks line obsessively typing on his blackberry, or the imagined chemistry between two people in the elevator. Some may be inspired by muy dramatico Spanish soap opera, but you may pin it on any drama series you like. This "secret pleasure" of mine stems from when my sister and I used to make up stories about people in restaurants and bars. What did they do for living? First date? Second date? Affair? [gasp] We never, out of shame, asked our "objects" for the truth.
My point? Who needs a kindle when you have passion-live-to entertain you. For a [short] period of time, this made me consider a career within writing. Many are my muses and many more are the dramas surrounding them. But, to be honest, I don't think I could work for spare change. It's the thought of having to choose between shoes and food. How would one choose?
Life in D.C. is ever as exciting. Work is interesting, friends are entertaining. Last Sunday I casually ventured out for a run outside. Glorious weather, good times! To bad my mother’s voice kept appearing. "...dress warmer. You are going to catch a cold..." Great! My mother now lives in my head. As it turned out she was right. I now am pandering around with what easily could be mistaken for an oversized orange in my throat. If only she could foresee trends as well. That way I wouldn't be stuck with an oversized cardigan, in the wrong color that I JUST had to have. Stay warm!
