Sitting alone at the computer, I pick my nose. I see my reflection in the screen from the corner of my eye and am startled; embarrassed for a split second, thinking that someone was behind me and had seen what I'd done.
Upon discovering that I've left a few sugar cookies lying about from my pre-diet days, I decide to throw them away to avoid temptation. But before tossing them, I put them safely in a Ziploc baggie...just in case.
On our first encounter, I'm told by the gentleman I'm with how much he admires my beautiful blue eyes. As sincere as he appears, I'd love to believe him - and probably would if my eyes weren't brown.
I consider logging on to Facebook to announce on my timeline just how clean my vacuum cleaner is now that I've dusted it. I decide to keep that knowing and pleasure for myself.
I make a prank phone call, picking a random number from the phone book. I happen to reach a woman living in a nursing home. Giving up the charade (though not entirely; I do stay in character), we end up having a lovely talk.
Curious to see how everyone will react, I secretly go to the fuse box and turn off all the power.
In response to one of my closest friend's text messages, I send a message that they can sense is covering up one of my blue spells. It makes me feel safe and loved knowing I have someone that can detect the falsity of my smiley face.
As I watch yet another episode of Dateline, I marvel at how uniquely Keith Morrison reports on havoc and violence, having me feel I'm hearing the most tender of fairy tales.
I sit on the floor with legs crossed during story time. When all of a sudden, a classmate farts in to the quiet, I laugh along with a few others beside me. When the teacher tells me to go sit at my desk for causing a disruption, I'm dismayed. One, for being singled out, laughing at something I didn't think was all that funny, and two, for perhaps being thought of as the flatulent culprit.
Climbing in to the driver's seat, I catch a whiff of my deodorant and am pleased by the scent.
In a vision I have from time to time, I'm lying down on my paternal grandparents' porch on a late summer's night, listening to my grandfather speak to whom I do not know. I'm uncertain whether it's a recollection or a dream.
Just for fun, my friend and I wander around inside a nearby high school - the one I would have attended had I not moved away as a child - to see if I could spot any now-older friends that I had all those years ago. When we're detained by the campus police officer for being so obviously out of place, it's a story he doesn't buy.
With my parents fighting in the other room, my older brother - who appears as shaken as I am - hugs me and keeps close in the loudness. I feel safer weathering the storm together.
When it's discovered I have pink-eye and I hear that kids from my daycare are wiping clean everything I've touched, I only quarter take offense.
The first night I'm in my new apartment, I'm greeted by a host of cockroaches - a sad little housewarming.
Authored by my friend and I, we fling over the balcony a handwritten letter full of fictitious drama and weirdness for an unsuspecting anyone to find.
Never quite judging my distance from the curb correctly when parking alongside one, I tell myself that as fun as it is to accidentally drive up on it, there has to be a better gauge.
While receiving my first Reiki attunement, I'm filled with pulses of energy and light similar to those I've encountered in meditation.
Buying cigarettes at the convenience store from the same sexy cashier I always do, I nervously knock a banana on the floor. Upon reflection, I smile at the irony.
To inspire laughter, I take my glass of water and pour it on a little row of wooden flowers sitting on the windowsill.
Drowsy while writing a blog post, instead of saving my draft, I click "Publish." :-)