I am on the patio. The store number jumps out at me. It is on the left side of the door. Street level. Double-o-seven. The James Bond reference is cool. The double-o prefix is a problem. Double-o is the license to kill. Not great for a coffee shop.
In the middle of the table, her handbag is squeezed just right. It is the phone stand. She is signing. It is one of those things that seem obvious when you see it but would never think of otherwise. Cheap data plans, front-facing cameras have turned smartphones into videoconferencing tools. And you can use sign language to talk to people in a videoconference. Phones can now be used by people that had no use for them before.
I smell pot. It is the third time since I got out of the gym. Too often for the neighbourhood. It must be an olfactory hallucination. I would really like to smoke a joint.
Sometimes there are not enough I’s; Sometimes there are too many I’s. I avoid personalizing the personal and I make the general all about me.
Thoughts are never really random.