I like my GP doctor. For some reason, I imagine her husband as a high-school math teacher. Maybe at a private school. Or an accountant.

Traffic in Dallas has become absurd. It feels like everyone is really not in a hurry or in an extreme hurry. I imagine each of those driving the speed limit or slower as high on marijuana and those speeding around them as high on meth or cocaine.

I'm listening to the audiobook of Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott. It is shameful that I hadn't already read this book. It had been on my list since before I had a list. It has crossed my desk a hundred times. Finally, Cal Newport mentioned he had just read it and that spurred me to look for it at the digital public library, and both the audiobook and the ebook were available. It is fucking delightful. As I listen I imagine writing, being a writer, being best friends with Anne Lamott.

One of our favorite aphorisms in AA is, "Don't compare your insides with others' outsides." Anne is very good at describing her inner world, making it sound insane and entirely relatable. I frequently imagine being "found out"--having others discover that I'm insane, incapable, perverted, stupid. I imagine some stranger having the superpower of reading minds and vomiting in visceral reaction to what they find in mine.