Here we talk to strangers and recycle used Kleenex

Virginia never ceases to amaze me. The speed limit on the highway is 55 mph and people obey it going south, but totally ignore it coming north on every major thoroughfare.

There’s a state tax and a commonwealth tax, and although you’re never charged neither, you’re sometimes charged both.

It is mid-January and I’m not wearing a coat. Thanks to a handy purchase at TJ Maxx, Dietrich is wearing less of one. We both looked big-city chic on our walk this afternoon.

Yesterday I talked to no fewer than three random people on the street, pleasant conversations all. One of these people even invited me and the husband to the pancake breakfast at the neighborhood Methodist church on Saturday.

More often than not, people Dietrich and I encounter on our walks holler greetings across the street and come over so their dogs can meet mine. This always goes well but still surprises me, since this is not the way people behaved in the old days.

There’s nothing like the judgment cast on someone who doesn’t bring reusable bags to the store. It’s enough to wither even the hardiest of Midwest girls, and while I used to do my best to remember to bring my own bags, now I go back to get them if I leave the house alone. Today I made a return at the mall and used the bag I brought my return in to carry my new items. Booyah.

In other news, I followed up today with A Certain Organization and haven’t heard back. Monday is a federal holiday but after that, if I don’t hear anything in the big-kid jobs department, I’m pretty sure Ann Taylor Loft will have an application from me. Just have to muster the energy to dig up addresses for three personal references and get used to having a manager check my purse at the end of a shift. I’ve worked retail before, I know how this goes.

Also, I’m afraid that small apartment living is costing me my manners. Today I drank out of the juice carton so I wouldn’t have to wash another mug and my underthings are strewn about the shoebox, drying with no regard for decency. Of course, none of this really matters since the husband and I don’t have guests. Of course, if I keep talking to strangers, maybe we will.


4 thoughts on “Here we talk to strangers and recycle used Kleenex

  1. I assume this post about drinking out of the carton gives me license to try my hand at this “once seen as indecent” behavior.

Shout at me.

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