A theory gets lost in there
or Life is a spin cycle
I was all set to blame Original Scent Tide for my flip-flopped smile of late. The weather, after all, has been nearly perfect here. The crutches are gathering dust in a closet. The mailman keeps delivering letters. My arch nemesis has returned and now I know whence she came. (And I just used "whence!"- not correctly, I had to remove from, but...) The chorus of "it could be worse" continues to screech in my yet-undestroyed-by-the-pod ears. (I have a whole other unformed theory about "it could be worse" that I'm saving for a day when it is worse.) So, basically I've had nothing to complain about. My smile should have been right-side up and it wasn't. I started to examine the downturn and realized that it pretty much coincided with my purchase of Original Scent Tide. It could be worse, of course, it could be Mountain Fresh. It could be better too. Why, it could be No Scent if the grocery store had not forced its hand on this issue, just like they have on the spicy black bean burgers. Oh if only the INSANE spicy blackbean disease had not felled that mighty bean and caused the shortage of '06.

No Scent Tide, like the burger, isn't being stocked at my friendly neighborhood grocer. Have I ever told you about the spunky Asian woman at my friendly neighborhood grocer? She's about 4 foot 8 inches tall, has clear braces and if she isn't the manager yet, she will be one day soon. She commands the store. I'm awed by people that command things, especially small people. If I ever meet a leprechaun, I'm going to go nuts. Or possibly, I'm going to go nuts and meet a leprechaun. I wonder how the woman feels about No Scent Tide. Maybe she could make a change. In the meantime, I realized that it wasn't a scent that was causing my gloom. Or maybe it was, but thirty minutes of exercise and an Orson Scott Card novel and suddenly I'm bubbling over with enthusiasm. Life is washing machine and sometimes that means agitation.