and we'll all float on o.k.

I found out this weekend that I’m afraid of floating bridges. I had to talk my way across. It’ll be alright, I said. Thousands of people cross this bridge every single day, I said. Every single day. There was something disconcerting about the bridge being right on the water. Right. On. The. Water. Looking over to where there should just be air and seeing instead, reflected sky. Wavy. Crayola blue. Dozens of cars in front and behind me floating on this slab of concrete and steel. Floating. We were floating! The side rails seemed too small. The bridge was bobbing up and down with the currents. Or maybe that was just my imagination. Either way, the side rails, they seemed too small.

I had to cross it twice. And then twice again when I got lost.

I’m still here.

So is the bridge.

It’s Monday.

Coincidence: I painted a picture of moths circling a light bulb. There was a moth circling my light bulb the very next day.

Test: I’m going to paint a picture of a pigeon superhero friend who does all my laundry and plays with Clover when I’m away. I’ll let you know what happens.

I found out this weekend that Pike Place Market reminds me of an airport. The mood there is temporary. It’s made up of passers by, taking snap shots and sampling cherries. You could go everyday and not see the same straw hat topped hippy or Michigan t-shirt wearing dad of four. They are there for that day only. They are maybe only there for that day. Like ghosts. Like people on a highway. Nameless and somewhat faceless. Strangers bumping into you wanting to buy a box of strawberries to eat back at the hotel.

You don’t have to take off your shoes to get in though.

But you’ll sometimes get rained on.

Now, it’s Tuesday.

Coincidence: I went to the market for lunch today and I was almost, so close, one second away form buying a big bag of cherries. And now, Mike want to share his with me.

Test: Tomorrow I’m going to the market for lunch and will almost, so close, be one second away from buying one of those way cool Chinese good luck cat sculptures – the waving kind. Perhaps come this time tomorrow, I’ll have a shared good luck cat custody agreement all worked out.

Meow.