As my morning post implied, I ate popcorn for breakfast. I ate ice cream for lunch, like I said I would. Then I made the awful mistake of watching the news. I really do know better than to do that when I want to remain jolly, but I believe—as Thomas Jefferson did—that the worst threat to our representative democracy is uninformed citizens, so I regularly force myself to pay attention to current affairs. But watching the news around election time tends to throw me into a funk of the funkiest of depths.
Fortunately, I am who I am. I have my Tie Room, the closet of which is full of props for silly purposes. It’s also where I keep my Suzanne-made capes and my face masks and my hats, and a bunch of other miscellany. I found my QWERTY keyboard Tie o’ the Day for when I do some writing later today. I made my outfit selections for the day, and dressed up for the purpose of cheering myself while I did household chores. As I always do when I’m cleaning, I sing the Glen Campbell song, “(Such Are The) Dreams Of The Everyday Housewife” at the top of my lungs. You really should stop by and hear me sing it sometime, but bring your earplugs just to be on the safe side.
Sure enough, while choring around in my swell duds, I started to forget about the contentious gobbledy-gook I saw on the news. In fact, I was feeling quite magician-like in my cape as I folded clothes. The doorbell rang in the middle of my choring, and I grabbed a face mask before opening the front door. It was the Amazon prime dudette making her nearly-daily-since-the-pandemic-started delivery to our abode. I stood there caped and cowboy-booted, in all my oblivious glory. The delivery woman commented positively on key aspects of my regalia. In fact, after I explained that Suzanne make all my capes, she asked if I thought Suzanne would make her one. She said I am the reason she looks forward to delivering packages in our zip code. Apparently, she saw me riding my bike around the neighborhood a few weeks ago, pulling the magnificent Skitter in her dog trailer behind me. I am very well aware that after Ms. prime driver drops off packages at our house, she likely gets back in her van with tales to tell her family when she gets home. In small ways like this, I aim to make the planet a bit better place than the news says it is.
