Overheard at the Caffè N.

You are someone who can entertain themselves. You don’t need a TV. You don’t need other people.

Years ago, when I was very young, I was married to an architect . . .

Good morning, boss, what can i get you?

That’s just doctors offices, they want everyone to be quiet.

Where were you the other day? You didn’t show up . . .

Can you listen to your books through the hearing aids or just the headphones?

Where did you go, AAA?

There’s nothing worse than that. I thought they only allowed service animals in here.

. . . and the labor was $100 . . .

I told him: this is not what i signed up for!

Are they all aging graduate students?

I get tired of washing all those towels when they’re not really dirty.

I’m happy, you now. I really love myself.

It was an elegy. A requiem . . .

I want it to go.

What I’m Reading:

“Especially the deep, post-holiday extremes of late January and February, when, no longer buoyed by festivities and merriments, you’re confronted with the empty expanse of a new year, discarded resolutions in your wake, resigned to your own inability to change.”

— Ling Ma / “Returning” / Bliss Montage