she jets a path north, past the pitiful port

i walked in to work this morning with a scarf wrapped around my head, my legs feeling strangely naked in tights. carson is standing in the back, tossing a rubber bouncy ball and catching it with a small plastic cup. without saying anything, he grins and picks up two cases: one is the cd case for journey's greatest hits (which, sadly, or not, depending on how you look at it) holds iron man 2. the second one is from the indian river convenience store and is titled due date.

we sit in the back watching robert downey jr. movies for most of the day, eating blackberry currant muffins and laughing at juvenile cursing.

yes: my life is tough some days.

(although, one customer, after talking to me over the phone but not actually seeing me in person, wondered out loud if i were carson's mother. perhaps my penchant for archaic language is seeping out in to spoken word? maybe i sound like an eighty year old on the phone?)