The woman eyes my items and tells me that she’s worried about how available CBD oil is now. “I mean, what’s next?”
I am using a frozen pizza to ice my knee. I know I shouldn’t answer a fool according to their folly, but hanger gets the best of me. “Hopefully pain relief and dinner,” I answer.
This morning, I heard Oprah say that she’s at a place in her life where she doesn’t interact with people she doesn’t want to see. Dearest Oprah, how do I get to that stage?
“I mean the town is fine or whatever. It’s just that the quality of people is very low.”
I am suffering from the type of writer’s block that comes from having too many political conversations with Conservative Christians. It’s not that I have nothing to say, but rather that I don’t feel like talking to y’all anymore.
“It was so hard when I moved here because I had no small town skills.”
“Will you be taking time off in the summer? Do you have any plans?”
“Um… mostly just paying rent. So I’ll be here.”