People keep asking me what I do.
"So Camille what are you doing?"
"What now Camille? What do you do?"
"You're back, so what are you up to now?"
.......
Excuse me. Was I supposed to plan something? What do I do? What kind of question is that? Uh a whole lot you know. I do a lot. What do I do. What do I dooooo. I get up. Kind of early. Not because I'm energetic about the arrival of a new day, more just because my bedroom is downstairs and my roommates have no problem making lots of noise in the morning. So what do I do after I get up? I read the scrawny Muskogee Phoenix newspaper. I have Multi-grain Chex, my dad makes a blend of Cheerios. I gripe that not enough coffee was made. Can someone PLEASE remember that I drink coffee too?? I then read CNN and NPR on my phone because unbeknownst to the Muskogee paper things happen outside of Braggs and Wagoner. I pet our cats. That's plural. I untangle necklaces that I obtained cerca 2001 and have been in a draw since a month after obtainment. I check my email. I remember that I can check the real mail. I think about sending some mail so I can get mail. I drive my car. I go to Wal-mart because that's where people with cars go. No, that's not why. I go because my Amy's Indian meals are cheaper there. I find out they stopped selling the ones I like because people don't buy enough organic frozen meals here. I grump about this. I make chicken salad. And I even add weird ingredients because I'm spontaneous like that. I try not to think that spontaneous used to mean weekend trips, now spontaneous is carrots in chicken salad. I go "junking" with my mom. We note that area junk stores are getting too nice. We hate when they try to be cute. Don't stencil your old bread box. Feathers never belong on lamp shades. Let the junk be junk. Ugh. I ride my bike. I almost lose my life to a white Ford Taurus. How depressing to lose your life to a Ford Taurus, I think. I play scrabble. I play words with friends. I prefer scrabble but my roommates always quibble and take too long on each turn. So I play words with friends while I play scrabble. I eat dinner with the roomies. We intensely discuss my mother's hatred for the grasshoppers eating her garden. We despise them. Jim says he caught one and bottled it in a coke bottle. You wouldn't believe their jumping power! Fran still hates them. She says she would feed them to the fish at Sixshooter if she could capture them. I hate them too. Horrible awful grasshoppers.
Oh yeah! and after Chex and Cheerios I have a conversation with Jim like this.
Me - Hey what's that vocabulary word that like means a name for something else? It's like monotony or misdemeaner or nomenclature or something. None of these but maybe with the letters. You know?
Jim- I know I know! Let me think about it. It's right there.... I'll get back to you on this. You had to ask!
(Later I'm browsing vegetables at the farmer's market....)
Mundane, meager, misdemeaner-no stop thinking misdemeaner, not misdemeaner! Normandy, hominy, mockery, monarchy, monocle, moniker. MONIKER! MONIKER MONIKER MONIKER. MONIKER! Hell Yes! I am amazing! I am word champion. Moniker. Moniker. How much are these tomatoes? Is it shameful to barter at a farmers market? Will hippies come out and chastise me for trying to swindle a poor local farmer? Oh wait I'm in Muskogee. Hippie free. Ha. Oxymoron. I'll tell her 50 cents.
Anyway back to those questions, what in the hell do they mean what do I do?
