orange you?

In need of self-pampering, I took myself out for a pedicure. Plus, I wanted to use the new orange you jealous? polish. The Vietnamese couple who own the business were busy. She had a third child a few weeks ago and is back on the job looking quite tired and worn out. When I arrived and asked if she had time, she said no, but did I want him to do it? I said yes (with a slight bit of hesitation). Her husband, as friendly as possible for a man who doesn't speak or doesn't want to speak English, proceeded with the spa pedicure. Conclusion: on close inspection he did a lousy job that cost too much. I could have done it better myself. But since I didn't want to, I'll just shut up and accept the consequences of my laziness. No one will be inspecting my toenails soon and no one will notice the sloppy job. Funny, isn't it, how the mind turns to banal, inconsequential things when it begins to hit overload (well, mine does). And so it goes, as did the drama of yesterday's unedited sunset.

I stopped fighting my inner
demons. We're on the same side now
          (unknown source)