I have a day off tomorrow. I had planned it in order to get my drivers license changed over to reflect my new address. Last time I went during my lunch hour and queued for fifty minutes. Once I got to the front desk, they told me the laminating machine had just broken down, and would I come back the next day. I did, but the queue was fifty five minutes long and I had to go back to work before it was my turn.
My co-worker Gerald has told me I should go to a museum on my day off. I don’t know. I’m not good in crowds and I have a fear of buildings with high ceilings, and it makes me want to urinate, for some reason. I do not know if there is a name for this type of phobia.
I have not had good experiences in museums, unless they are small, like the Lawnmower Museum, which is the only one I can go to because it has low, safe ceilings. I bought a book in the gift shop, entitled: The Rise of Domestic Lawn Care Equipment in 1937. I am very well acquainted with the exhibits as I have been several times.
In order to save money, I have been bringing food into work, and so items that I put in the fridge have become increasingly numerous and diverse. I decided to remove the melon-baller as I probably won’t need that again, but I have decided to leave the rosemary seasoning.
Today I made toasted ham sandwiches. I put a little too much seasoning on it I think. Dorothy sat on the table next to mine. She never takes her lunch this late. I wonder if this is a new thing. I looked at her but she didn’t see me. She was reading a book called ‘They Call It Puppy Love’. After checking Rainforest.com, I have discovered, with some relief, that Dorothy does not like reading books on bestiality. I wanted to be sure as not to leap to the wrong conclusions. I do not think I could have a relationship with someone who thinks it’s okay to have sex with a dog.
Or a gerbil.