Who wants to be a recluse?

I wish I could invent a gameshow called "Who wants to be a recluse?" I could be the only one to show up and win the grand prize, which of course, is being a recluse (because if you want to be a recluse, you're probably not going to try out for a gameshow in front of a lot of people, and then go on national t.v.)

Any way, I went to the bookstore today, and rediscovered how much I dislike crowds. I also thought, "Either there's a lot of people who do shift work or work part time, or a lot of people played hooky from work today." I mean, come on people, it's Monday. No reason why you couldn't have boarded the Metro like everybody else and push paper at the Pentagon, or whatever other people do for a living around here. There were simply too many people in the shopping center, and I almost got run over by a car backing out of a parking spot. I mean like my person, not my car. I thought maybe if it had happened, it would take my mind off of my back pain, which has me feeling like an arthritic old lady lately.

Back to my nice, quiet apartment where from my window I can sit and watch the mechanics in the car shop sit and take their cigarette breaks just down the knoll from the parking lot, listen to the faint rumble of the Metro in the distance, and the ever-present squeak and protesting clatter of the stupid parking lot gate, which is completely pointless because there are other, very obvious ways into the apartment complex, and since when did gates stop serial killers?

I did see copies of D'Aulieres Book of Greek Myths (with the orange cover, and I think, Athena on the cover) which I read avidly as a second grader (I read everything back then, and no, it wasn't for school). I love the children's sections of bookstores, because it reminds me of my fondness for reading, when said reading is not peppered with words like "postmodern deontological perspectives" and "Derrida."

I also tried reading Harry Potter in Spanish, and then realized I don't read Spanish, but it was fun any way.

Meanwhile, back at the farm, the dog and the rabbit continue in some bizarre form of inter-species sibling rivalry. Bunny now likes to "ask" to go outside on the porch and then "asks" to come inside (when she wants to come in, she hops over the sliding glass door and stares inside balefully. If that doesn't get my attention, she starts scratching on the glass. Honest to God). Rabbit eats dog food whenever she can, so dog has retaliated by stealing and eating bunny's hay/vegetables. Dog doesn't realize hay gets stuck in his whiskers--a tell-tale sign he's been at it. Both of them now beg for treats when I go into the kitchen, and I often feel as if I'm mother of two naughty little children who follow me around the house and pout if they don't get their way.

Off to fish out the ibuprofen--back starting to go again... Ninety, here I come!