oh, hell.  i’m feeling better today, which is completely out of context for you, because you didn’t know how i was feeling in the first place.  well, i don’t always tell you.  my cuticles are red, raw and bloody, which i think means that i need a new nervous habit.

today i went to houston municipal court to take care of my speeding ticket incident / defensive driving deb‚cle.  outside the building, men in mirrored sunglasses and hawaiian shirts sat on the steps and atop big plastic garbage cans, eating popsicles purchased from one of the three ice-cream carts out front.  i went inside to the metal detector, which beeped as i walked through.  the woman at the counter had me spread my arms as she ran the wand over me, and the bail line stared, glassy-eyed.  i glanced briefly at them, a blur of white tank tops, bald heads, and solid black tattoos against the soupyellow walls of the lobby.

i still can’t get over the fact that they were selling ice cream at the courthouse.