I followed a bus today.

Frank is furious.

I saw them lined up at the school, and I waited, and I picked one. I followed it for the entire route. All of those happy parents greeting their children with hugs and whisking them quickly inside. They are very lucky. I envy them.

Of course, after the bus went back to its garage, the nice policeman followed me all the way home, and that's why Frank is mad at me.

But I've been thinking more about adversity. Women aren't burned in the crucible of adversity as men are in War. Women try each other every day with the little things that bite and sting and drive us mad. And perhaps, for the man who has been purified in the hell of adversity looks at all of the petty bullshit and just acknowledges it all as little things, little things that simply just don't matter on the grander scale, and it can roll off of them and around them, and it simply cannot matter to them. It is not important. But for women, it becomes their life.

This is me. This is who I am.

I realized when I alphabetized the china cabinet that I am worrying too much about Angie. That's what drove me from the house. I left the radio off. The tapes are still in my sock drawer. But that doesn't stop my mind from wandering. There are only so many times you can soak the grout in the shower in a day.
  ¶ 1:34 PM