Townie Tales: Episode 1

I saw my optimologist at the gym today, in the locker room. He was pants-less and looked glum in his black socks. I declined to initiate conversation.

Dinner with the parents. I referee another “discussion”, this time about what color the new drapes should be. The maddening part about spending so much time with one’s parents is the realization that one’s own limitations is rooted in them. It feels like a cold wash of inevitability brought on by genetic and psycological forces. Every quirk and bad habit has a direct genesis in themselves. The interuption of one’s own sentences with new sentences, the inability to perform any task with background noise ongoing, it is all there, sitting across from me at dinner.

Over the weekend, I wore my shirt tucked in. It went nicely with my boat shoes. I have turned some sort of corner. No soy lattes yet, but a Volvo? Check.

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