No love for the mailman

What do I get for rushing home from work today? Nothing. No Interweave Knits. No pics from C's cousin with the fantastic camera. Not even a decent stack of junk mail or credit card offers that I could triumphantly toss in the recycling. I got nothing. I'm not sure why I even bothered to come home between the "work-meeting-KIP" runaround that I've got going on tonight. It must have been in order to blog.

I am compelled to mention the strange nice thing that happened yesterday: I was going down the stairs into the Blue Line to finish going downtown, and a random young man in full faux-basketball attire and "I'm-up-to-no-good" attitude stops me on the third step. I turn around to say "No, sir" because I'm convinced he's going to ask me to help him buy his next beer, but he just holds out a transit card to me. What? I'm confused. "It's still good," he says, mumbly. "It's still good, you can use it." And I did; it was cashed out but it was still good for its third transfer. I have no idea why he felt compelled to share it, or why he chose me to give it to. But I got a free ride downtown, and now I think of him as quite a nice young man. Maybe his scowliness was towards the transit system, and this was his way of sticking it to the man. I wonder if I should have given it away--I'm not rich, but flush enough to buy my own train fare. I guess it's best not to overanalyze too much.

And on that note (ha!) I must leave for my meeting.