1) I have a haircut today with a new hairstylist. I fretted about what to wear to impress her. In my head, a hairstylist is a person who possesses things I will never possess: an aesthetic, a sense of what is hip, craftsmanship, the ability to bring to life a vision. And this person holding scissors next to my head is someone I want as an ally and friend. So I dressed to convey my strongest hopes: she will see me and like me. She will know I am friendly and fun-loving, professional yet playful, curious and accepting, yet with a strong moral compass. She will see this and see in my hair the potential to express all of this and more. Do you know how hard it is to get dressed when this is what you are trying to communicate? I settled on the polka-dotted flouncy shirt I got this weekend. But I got the earrings all wrong.
2) I am contemplating, in fact, even anticipating, the murder of another sentient being. I am planning to poison the family of squirrels living in my roof. This is a terrible thing, and I know I should be ashamed. I know I should get a Have-a-Heart trap and wait patiently and lovingly for the critters to emerge, and then apologize for their confusion and drive them into an adjacent county, far, far away where they will not make it back to my roof. But instead I am planning to poison them, like the contractor told me to. Unless you would like to come rescue them, and make a home for them. I know how you like things that are living as unwelcome guests in other people's houses. You can have my squirrels, but you must speak up now.