Hardly worth a mention

A nondescript day... 

What a fucking shame. 

Although blaming doesn't help- that's on you. Ok? 

Alright?

Look closer. Go deeper. 

Wake the hell up. 

A lady with a walker asked me for a dollar for something to eat while I was on my way into the post office today. I told her I'd see her on the way out. She muttered something. On the way out, I checked my wallet. I had two twenties. I gave her one. She said, "Thanks, hon."

I bought fifty pounds of black sunflower seeds and some suet bricks at the hardware store. 

I tipped the barista five dollars at the coffee drive up. 

I bought my son a down jacket and my daughter an electric blanket on line last night. 

I texted my oldest son after reading the headline of an article about a naked teen found covered in ranch dressing who crashed into a Kansas gas station. I haven't seen him in a couple of weeks. 

A man fixed my computer, but I could not log in to what I needed when I got home. 

I sent someone an e-mail advocating suicide risk screening in primary care doctors' offices. Research tells us that most suicides see their doctor within a month of their deaths. The patient almost never says it out loud. The doctor almost never asks. "Let me stop you there..." 

On average you get eight minutes of face time per visit with your PCP in America. That's what I've heard from the professionals.

I don't have one. I can ignore myself professionaly and I don't even bill for it. 

The man on my music player is chanting, "Why am I on this earth?" 

You should be careful what you're feeding yourself.