7:50. Every morning. We pass this lady walking counter-clockwise around the roundabout on her way to the bus stop. Short, round, greasy hair, glasses, waddles a little, dark blue jacket. I think she's mentally retarded. "Challenged", if you insist on being politically correct. She carries this turquoise bag. Every morning. Glasses, turquoise bag. Dark blue jacket, turquoise bag. Waddle, turquoise bag. Swinging as she makes her way toward that green pole with the bus picture on it.
Yesterday she wasn't carrying her turquoise bag. She was carrying, instead, a brown floral-print bag.
And somehow, it made her look less retarded. Less retarded, more like an old, single cat lady.
I'm going to grow up to be an old, single cat lady. And, fuck you, I'm going to carry a turquoise bag on my way to the bus stop.