Third Thursday

The Science at the Pub lecture was all about global warming and climate change. While an April near-blizzard raged outside. Point taken. Mostly power point graphs illustrating the grim statistics. No solutions offered, though, so once the lecture had concluded I proceeded to the rear of the bar and lost four dollars in a video lottery machine. Meaning that I have paid my entertainment tax for the month. Then I felt fingers in my hair. Pushing it aside from the back of my neck. Then the sensation of teeth giving one of the less meaty areas of my body a good, solid pinch, followed by a gleeful laugh. Bob hasn't bitten me for over ten years and I really was a little worried he didn't love me anymore. Last time he drew blood. And inflicted some bruising. On my knee. At his own twenty-fifth wedding anniversary party. Thinking that I was three for three on dismal events for the evening, I decided it was time to go home. I have safely navigated the slushy streets and parked in the garage. I have a glass of Black Box chardonnay, flannel jammies, chocolate cake and Netflix. The new fridge arrives tomorrow. It seems this was merely a hiccup in its death throes and that the old fridge has, indeed, gone kaput. But all in all, things are looking up. Another indication that I am hard-wired for happiness. Because this evening would most ironically indicate I ought to be feeling otherwise.