Goulash

Today's post will consist of blogs - ramblings if you will - created yet never finished and until today have been lingering somewhere in the world of drafts.
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It always happens when I am fighting time, in dire need to use the bathroom, and experiencing an unusually intense case of impatience. I get stuck in line behind some lollygagger who has nothing but time. The most recent case occurred this afternoon during what was suppose to be an in-and-out trip to Kmart to pick up a greeting card. One small less than $5 item. Big store - one checkout line. The female patron, Shaquita, works for an Abuse Center according to the tag dangling from her oversized shirt and today is buying every paper product produced at Kimberly Clark. How unfortunate that life necessitites not only one giant size package of Maxi Pads, with wings, but also an economy size package of Depends. Rumor has it Darlene is not the only one in the house wearing diapers because she also collected a package of tot sized Pampers.
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In an attempt to spice up the monotony of every day life I am going to start addressing people by their first and last names.
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As I was walking out of my new favorite Mexican eatery Sunday afternoon I observed a young girl, maybe in her early 20's, who was sobbing into the palms of her hands and it stopped me in my tracks. I watched as the pain grew on the girls' face. It was the type of crying that couldn't be prevented no matter how hard she was trying. The troubled soul was dining with two girls of similar age. She ordered a drink that went untouched as her lunch companions dove into their taco salads. Having been in similar grievous situations I instinctively felt her pain as if it were my own. My mind flashed to agonizing moments of my past where nothing could bring me out of that in-the-moment, overwhelming pain. It's as if you are living but lifeless simply going through the motions. A slave to your emotions alienated from the world around you. As I longed to give reassurance to the young girl that things would eventually be okay I said a silent prayer for her while hoping I would never be where she was again whether it be due to good luck, proper choices or positive perspective.
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Experience has shown year after year that one week post birthday is no good. This might be the annual week off for my guardian angel. Perhaps I am feeling a little blue that the birthday activities have come and gone left with a couple kodaks of an inebriated girl and her inebriated friends getting boo'ed while singing karaoke [for the record we were show stopping]. Last year my house was broken into the week after my 32nd. This particular week also signifies the end of summer preparing us for cold, dark days ahead. Today, a mere 3 days into my 33's, I got a speeding ticket in a no tolerance school zone. I won't argue with the principle of the matter (who wants to hit a kid) but it's July 31st, dirty dogs, and school is not yet in session. The big and bad cop that stopped me was nice but shameless. The officer leaned on his bike as a cigarette stuck to his lower lip held on for dear life. He lured me to him with his right hand and signaled me to stop when I notice a ticket in his left glove. I know what a badass, right, who wears gloves in July? I have a fishy suspicion this man of law was delinquent on his end of the month ticket quota and was requried to meet the delinquency by close of business. What happened to warnings by the way? A ticket for traveling 5 miles over the tragically low 25 limit is a hard pill to swallow. I can barely afford gasoline let alone a $200 ticket. If I really start to think about how much money is spent towards my car it makes my stomach hurt. Car payment (although 10 months from being paid off) personal property taxes, another 30 bucks for tags not to mention the cost to insure the darn thing. I don't even like to drive!
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