I made it to the dump today.

That's kind-of a major accomplishment for someone who only leaves the house a few times a month.

Being a new year, I had to wait in line for a new sticker. I was expecting this to be a cold administrative task, carried out by grouchy bureaucrats poring over my identity and proof of residence with a monocle and an air of critical disbelief. I also expected a long wait.

What I didn't expect was this:

Jersey barriers covered in holiday cheer!

Look at all that discarded Christmas tat! As much as this kind of waste is dismaying, I love that our municipal employees were allowed the time to recycle it into a display to ease the spirit during the annual sticker renewal process.

And what synchronicity that I'd just been enjoying @ddschteinn's Holiday Tree Toss series. (Not to mention @hendrix22's synchronicity story.) The dump's brush pile was full of discarded firs and pines, but unfortunately it was too busy for me to get a decent shot.

It's been a low energy day other than that - oversleeping followed by a long nap. Kind of a let-down after the productive week I fell like I've been having. (Posting twice a day! Running 24 miles! Waking up before 10!) Narcolepsy is like a tax collector, and it and it always collects its due paid in slumber.

Why it takes so long to finish a book.

But even though I'm coming to the keyboard late in the day, it's forcing me to realize this feeling of gloom is irrational. Just my gray matter doing its thing, egged on by heavy rain and wind and lack of daylight and unpredictable bouts of generalized anxiety. Fortunately I can recognize it for what it is and move on.

---

On Unanticipated Conversations ~

I had a few more warm and human moments today, and they occurred in a corporate grocery store, of all places. This was as much of a shock as finding the transfer station festooned with finery.

I headed in because I remembered it was "Five dollar chicken Friday!" A rotisserie chicken for just $5 - how about that? I can get five meals out of one, including a decent soup.

But the deli case was empty! Naught but shining chrome behind the promotional copy. I was bewildered.

But then there was a voice: "You're looking for something, aren't you?"

"It's just that... it says... " (I can type 120 words a minute, but conversation is hard.)

"Yeah, I'm a little behind on the chicken. Here, do you want to pick one out?" And she gestured to the big rotisserie cooker, which spun patiently as it's timer ticked down to zero.

"How about," I said, "a big one?"

Armed with my chicken and a package of celery (for the eventual soup) I headed to the lines. Every open register was crammed - even the self-check-out lines. I found a reasonably short one with just two people ahead of me. A lady looked at my basket and said, "Is that it?"

"Er, yes?"

"Well then, go ahead of me."

"Are you sure?"

"No I'm not sure. I just wanted an excuse to beat someone up today."

I've heard that in other parts of the country, it's commonplace to have conversations with strangers in public places, and to even joke around with them.

As a New Englander (and a shut-in) this is a little frightening. Unsolicited conversation puts us on the defensive. It's customary to assume your interlocutor wants to sell you something. Or maybe beat you up and take your stuff. But the lady was of an age and a stature that belied her threat of violence, so I accepted her offer.

Then, the cashier wanted to talk to me about how good the chicken smelled! "Wow," she said, "a roasted chicken that you don't have to cook yourself? It's just five dollars?"

"It's nice," I said. Didn't she work here? But I was all out of words, and the woman behind me was starting to roll up her sleeves.

---

Did you just read a rambling story about buying a chicken?

I told you I was having an off day.

Was there a point? I don't know. Does everything have to have a point?

Maybe this: You might be an asshole, but if you keep it to yourself, strangers will be nice to you once in a while.

And also: the dump doesn't have to be an ugly place. It's always gonna be a little tacky though.

---

And if you're still with me after all that, why not