The happy men that lose their heads/ They find their heads in heaven
Thursday, August 26th, 2010 01:41 pmLovely weather. Lovely lovely weather. Cool; blue skies; white end of summer clouds-- the puffy undense kind I think of as whipped cream, except that that also describes the quite thick mounded clouds one sees from an aeroplane. A fall cloud that comes after rain, which we had in torrents yesterday.
I've been quite fuzzy lately, even after a week off gingko biloba. Forgot my change purse in yesterday's swim bag and so lacked Pepsi all morning to combat the inexplicably threatening headache. So midday I went to the bank and then to the drugstore down the street and bought more gingko-- and discovered I'd left my bank card in the machine. Trot back to bank, ask if anyone's handed the card in-- 'it was only ten minutes ago'-- woman asks me a slew of identifying questions and requests ID and no, the gov't issued health card with the photo doesn't count. 'Do you have a citizenship card?' I am torn between pleasure at her unthinking assumption that I must be an immigrant because everyone is, including of course her, and amazement that she can't hear my very born in Trawna native vowels (but then she's an immigrant.) Credit cards of course will do for ID and guarantee because it's not like the bank issues those to just anybody oh wait...
'Do you remember which machine you used?' 'The left-hand one.' She goes out front and comes back with, no shit, five bank cards. The machine swallows them again if you don't take it within 30 seconds, which is good to know; and good to know that four other people today have been just as ditzy as I am.
I've been quite fuzzy lately, even after a week off gingko biloba. Forgot my change purse in yesterday's swim bag and so lacked Pepsi all morning to combat the inexplicably threatening headache. So midday I went to the bank and then to the drugstore down the street and bought more gingko-- and discovered I'd left my bank card in the machine. Trot back to bank, ask if anyone's handed the card in-- 'it was only ten minutes ago'-- woman asks me a slew of identifying questions and requests ID and no, the gov't issued health card with the photo doesn't count. 'Do you have a citizenship card?' I am torn between pleasure at her unthinking assumption that I must be an immigrant because everyone is, including of course her, and amazement that she can't hear my very born in Trawna native vowels (but then she's an immigrant.) Credit cards of course will do for ID and guarantee because it's not like the bank issues those to just anybody oh wait...
'Do you remember which machine you used?' 'The left-hand one.' She goes out front and comes back with, no shit, five bank cards. The machine swallows them again if you don't take it within 30 seconds, which is good to know; and good to know that four other people today have been just as ditzy as I am.
