Make Mine Mike

Mundane Monday

Yesterday a woman approached my car the same time I did, her keys out, ready to start it up. I looked at her and she realized: "Oops, sorry, thought this was mine."

"No problem," I said. So many silver sedans seem similar.

She went to her vehicle, which was brown.

Time for a car wash. The smoggy science experiment on my hood must come to an end.

Fortunately, I got to do it this morning, 'cause I didn't go to the gym. Well, I did, but I forgot my wallet, so I had to go back home, and then there wouldn't be time to work out. I'm always forgetting something at the gym lately. Maybe my body's getting stronger, but what to do about this stupid brain? Sometimes I forget my workout gloves. Not a big deal, but then no one believes my explanation for the calluses on my hands. If I don't bring a fresh pair of socks, I gotta wear the sweaty white ones all day. And if it's underwear, I go commando.

So I'm starting off this week feeling wimpy and absent-minded, but at least I have a silver car, clean sox & boxers, and nice, supple palms.