I'm feeling a bit of the writer's block lately (even though I have this sneaking suspicion that it's really overstating it to think of myself as "a writer", and wonder if I can even legitimately lay claim to their attendant problems.)
The weather is hot, and I'm wilting till I get used to it. The news pisses me off, but not in an engaged, ranting kind of way -- more a quiet, head-shaking "what the hell is coming NEXT?" kind of way that leaves me bereft of any kind of intelligent (or at least intelligent-sounding) take on events. I'm just lethargic in general...my place is a mess and I have to clean it up for my friend visiting this weekend. I have e-mails that have gone un-returned for way too long. Sigh.
Ah well. On the subway to work yesterday, an empty Snapple bottle rolled around the floor of the car for the entire ride. It rolled to and fro, bumping into peoples' feet as it went. It was fun to watch the varied reactions. One man jumped with a a start when he felt the tap against his shoes, then glanced down, identified the intruder, smiled sheepishly across the car at me, and resumed his reverie. One woman glared at the bottle angrily each time it rolled into her, but didn't make a move to kick it away. One guy did nothing but kick it away each time it only got near him, kind of the way you used to kick a pebble down the sidewalk when you were a kid. Other commuters conscientiously raised their feet each time it rolled past, as if it were a janitor at the end of the line, cleaning under their seats.
It didn't roll over to my side of the car, so I wasn't sure what I'd do if it reached me.