Privia

This morning I looked at myself in the mirror and thought, "hey, I'm getting cuter!" Then I realized that indeed it's not that my appearance is improving; it's that my eyesight is getting worse. Much worse.

I've discovered a market that sells pistachio nuts at $1/100g. They also sell a whopping can of grass jelly for only $1.37, and myriad odd things that can be ground up and made into tea.

Yesterday I ventured out to Value Village. It was just as demoralizing as the name suggests; nevertheless I returned with two shirts, a book and a curtain for well under $20. The curtain also cost me a lengthy harangue from environmentally senescent T; but since most of the arguments I'm forced to pay into don't net me any household items, I believe I've come out ahead of the game.

T's Silverfish Inn has had two guests so far. At first I put a little oatmeal in so that they'd be happy; then T reminded me that silverfish don't pay rent and besides, how happy could they be, running around in circles in a little glass? So I drowned them; but I secretly long for my own silverfish circus.

These trite moments brought to you by the cooperative efforts of Mother Time and AstraZeneca.