Today I dragged myself, kicking and screaming, to the grocery store. Half that time was spent with children following me around with a gigantic, fat, stuffed lamb, and a gigantic, fat, stuffed puppy, the lamb about as big as a real-life sheep and the puppy about as big as a Great Dane. I put an end to it when the stuffed animals became weapons. I took a walk around the office neighborhood at lunchtime with coworkers, and we saw a new apartment that one of them is moving in to, just a few blocks away from the office. Living two blocks away, can one really feel like she is getting away from it all, at the end of the day? Isn't that a lot like working out of your home? Very much so, yes, it is. The co-worker-soon-to-be office-neighbor brought in a huge bag fulla bagels, and carried some cream cheese spread in along with them. I brought in banana bread, homemade, I must add, by my own two hands at home, and no one finished it, and an entire week has gone by. It's a small loaf and there was still half of it left this morning, before I took pity on it and ate a few more pieces of the homemade goodness. It was a delicate combination of whole wheat flour and white flour, with perfectly ripened bananas folded in by my able cooking arms. Still edible after a week, not really all that dry, really. People are afraid of banana bread.
I read some more of The Reader last night, and am almost finished. It is called a novel but reads very much like someone's account of two intersecting lives that really happened.
All day I was shaking off the mild annoyances that occurred throughout my three-day weekend. One of them is the frustration that occurred when the 10-year-old of the home left her $60 somewhere this weekend and doesn't know where it is. It was money that I gave her, that I owed her, that I kind of miss now that it's gone, even if she would have spent it on a bunch of frivolous, in-the-moment type of stuff. Hopefully I'll be back to Original Self by tomorrow. Need some time alone. Someone asked me if I'd go see Breakfast at Tiffany's at the movie theater this evening. I told her the main character reminds me of someone I dislike, someone who I am certain has a histrionic personality disorder. After I explained this to my friend, before I even said "no" to going to the movie, she said she was uninviting me, because she likes Audrey Hepburn and the character she plays in that movie very much. What's to like? Her character is just like a bunch of real-life people I know: flirtatious predators who play men like puppets (nice, unsuspecting men, lured in by seemingly irresistible charms), and discard them with psychotic contempt when they, soon after their conquest, lose interest because the men have suddenly lost whatever worth they had. Maybe I'm putting too much of my own biases into the character, I don't know.