The Long and Short of It

We are living like the box car children. Only we have a Nissan Infiniti. But still.

My water dish, bowl and bag of Nutro Natural Choice Dental Care dog food are on the front seat floor. My water is in a plastic jug here on the back seat. There is a lawn chair, laundry soap and management's cosmetics clogging my space. Today I ate lunch at the beach parking lot. "Pretend you are a pioneer, " says the Boss. I say pretend you are in a nut house.

Ever since her class reunion she has been acting like a flaky artist because some people told her she should write a book. She used to be a big deal. Boring. Where is Joan Crawford? Oh, yeah. Dead.

I would say fine to her airs if she would write a book about a kid with glasses who is a wizzard and who goes to a school named Snaggledorf or Smithereens. For someone who wrote to the Famous Writer's School when she was 15, she has not learned a lot about the publishing business. She could make a mint writing junky suspense novels. But, no.

Tonight we had dinner in the car a la Boheme - salami, ham, olives, a sourdough roll and Amish cheese. Amish people do not drive cars, but I suppose it is OK to eat their cheese while you are sitting in one.

This picture is me in the back seat. For a while I was worried that management intended to hog all the food for herself, but I should have known. She is a liberal. She shares.