April 29, 2004
1. My dog taking a nap in my lap, snoring like the old man that he is. It's good that he's snoring, because that means we know he's breathing despite the fluid in his lungs. My sisters and I had hoped that one day he just wouldn't wake up. But he has to be helped along.
2. On my way to the train this morning, a blue/gray/charcoal-colored cat, with pale green eyes, is hanging out in the parking lot. I call to it, thinking it won't come to me, but it does. It rubs itself against my legs and I give it a few friendly strokes, but I have to make my train. There's cat hair all over my black-trousered shins. I'm going to keep an eye out for it this afternoon. 'Cause I need more little heartaches right now.
3. Waiting for my connecting train, I see yet again a certain guy. Every time I see him, this is how he's been dressed: tan-colored tweed blazer, with dark blue jeans that are almost too long, and tan suede shoes. His dark brown hair is stylishly mussed; he looks like a hipster cockatiel. He never carries a work bag - if he did it would probably be messenger-style, maybe one by Jack Spade. He looks pulled together, in a Salvation Army vintage kind of way.