I finally found the source of that Holy Schmokes, What Died smell that’s been intensifying in my car since early yesterday.
Note to self: If you give in and buy a Milk Chug for Janie at your Friday Mommy-daughter breakfasts, do not let her take it out of Dunkin’ Donuts unless you make sure a) she puts it in her lunch bag (not her backpack, for the love of all that is pure and holy) for later enjoyment or disposal; or b) she gives it to you for disposal once she reaches work.
It doesn’t matter if she hasn’t finished it—wasting food may or may not be a sin, but wasting it inside one’s car is quick way to olfactory hell.*
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I found a book to review for the Friday’s Forgotten Books feature on Patti Abbott’s blog later this month!
I was going to do Ariel by Steven R. Boyett, as I’ve loved that book ever since I spent all my lunch money for it when I was thirteen—but apparently it was reissued last year, and everyone has discovered it. I’m thrilled this story is being read—and I can replace my adored-to-bits copy, but it meant scrambling for another book!
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Figured out a sticky plot point while walking back from lunch and had my notebook and a working pen with me so I could get it down.
Convergence like that doesn’t happen every day!
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After resisting for years, I finally signed up for Twitter and made my first tweet (@sjwesson) about 4:20 pm. Don’t bother checking it out if you don’t want to—it’s about the Milk Chug.
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*Further note to self: It wouldn’t hurt to clean the backseat floor of your car once in a while, either.
Earful of Cider 