Chicken Breast

I dreamt last night that I had one puff of Marijuana and really felt it. In the dream, I also felt bad I’d done it. I find it super interesting that even in my dreams I’m off it. I have never, ever, dreamt of having Marijuana before.

It is beyond wet out there this morning. Today is going to be yet another day spent entirely inside. Sigh! 

I went into the village to shop. Again, there was no chicken available but as I was leaving the meat and poultry section, a very nice and friendly woman whom I’ve often seen asked me, “Is there something I can help you with?”

I made my usual “I can’t speak” sign and then … and then … I put my hands in my armpits and flapped my “wings” and then patted my flat hand against my chest.

“Are you after chicken breast? She asked me. I nodded yes.

“Skinless and boneless?” I nodded yes and put my hands in the prayer position and bowed my head to thank her. Soon, she was back with an assortment of packages for me to choose from.

“I’m usually lousy at charades, but you’re good!” she said. Again, the prayer position and bowed head.

I may be mute, but I’m tickled pink by how well I get by and how nice people are to me.

Now… to the fire and my New Yorkers.