I walked Marty in the sun and listened to Patton Oswalt laugh with Adam Carolla.
I watched “Grey Gardens” with Paul and laughed some more.
I talked scripts with Becky over lunch and laughed again.
I let myself in my neighbor’s apartment to walk her King Charles Spaniel, and I walked him in the sun.
I met with my writing partners and talked comedy, and the laughing continued.
I got groceries in the Trader Joe’s, and a smiling grocer with body tattoos sampled me a Cranberry Cider.
I also watched these men and women debate my life.
I watched it without getting upset, strangely. It felt like I was the maid, getting groped inappropriately by older men for so long that I just let it happen. This truly feels like the millionth time I’ve heard someone say–
I don’t want to finish that sentence. I want to move on.
A gay couple celebrates 50 years together today.
I wouldn’t even debate Mr. Osteen if he were sitting in front of me right now. So much popular opinion is waterfalling in our favor that very soon, if not already, what Mr. Osteen thinks simply won’t matter at all.
It’s a beautiful day outside. Let other people plot and scurry and wonder aloud what it is they can do to save me and my friends. I’m enjoying this sun.