Winter Recluse

I went into a bookstore the other day, the first time I’d been in one in several years, looking for some titles by a few authors.  Why is it that the aisles are so often filled with gaseous patrons wearing flannel?  Of the three authors I was looking for, all of whom are famous, there was one book by each of them, but none were what I was looking for.  So I went home and ordered what I wanted from Amazon.  Which is what I usually do when it comes to books, music, movies, household supplies, etc.

As it turns out, there’s little need in my life for most things retail.  I love the Armenian market down the street, the Jewish market over the bridge, the Caribbean and African market in Dudley Square, and EATALY downtown, but when it comes to things I can’t buy to cook things to eat, staying home is the best option.

I haven’t any tickets for local theatre nor any musical acts coming to town, the next time I’m eating dinner out locally is at the end of March.

If it wasn’t for the gym, work, local food markets, and one or two or three bakeries, I might as well be on Mars.

 

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