Last night we went out for a bite to eat at Nicole’s (a very lovely restaurant). We were sitting under the air conditioner, minding our own business, when suddenly something falls out of the air, hitting Miriam in the arm, causing her to say, “I’m wet!” Then the air conditioner starts spewing ice at us. We moved out to the deck after that, where the wind continuously blew out our candles. We couldn’t see our food. But at least we were no longer being attacked by ice.

This morning on the way back from my run, I saw what I’ve seen almost every morning that I make it out before work: There’s a woman close to the corner of our street who sits in her car, window down or door open, in her pajamas, smoking a cigarette. And every time I see her I think, “is she hiding her smoking from someone? Her car must smell like smoke, despite the ventilation. And she must smell like smoke. And I can smell it down the street. Seriously, who does she think she’s fooling?”