You! And you! Go vote tomorrow!

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Did I mention that you should vote?

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Just call me Grumpy

I went out into the cold this morning to bring in the newspaper, and got an unexpectedl treat. The sun was just coming up behind my neighbor's house, peeking around her garage in a pale blue sky crisscrossed by pink, fluffy ribbons of cloud. The landscape lay under a faint, optimistic, pinkish glow. I didn't care. I don't feel optimistic. It's hard living with a guy who lost a hundred pounds on Weight Watchers. There's nothing like a convert to make everyone uncomfortable. I have gotten tired of his lovingly pointing out to me that I'm obese. Not chubby. Not pleasingly plump. Obese. The "O" word. I come from a whole family of cheerfully obese people, thank you very much. They enjoyed life; they enjoyed food. They got diabetes in their 60s. They didn't enjoy that very much. So much for my argument. So here I am, day two of Weight Watchers, glaring balefully at my breakfast of 3 Rice Krispies and a tablespoon of fat-free milk. "I'm so ...
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Summer blahs ...

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