February 12, 2024:
I live across the street from a physical rehab facility. Throughout much of the day you find dudes in wheelchairs socializing on street corners. Typically sharing clouds of weed.
Weed has never been my thing. I don't want them to offer me any, and I don't want to be rude. So I smile, say hello, flash peace signs, and keep moving.
My mailbox is full. I empty it seldom. There's rarely if ever anything good inside, or even useful. Today: "Send no money!" You got it. I promise that I will not do.