Hatred for produce

Why do people around here seem to hate produce so much? In normal places, people throw pumpkins off overpasses only during a fairly narrow time period in the fall, but lately I've been seeing all kinds of abused produce all over the place. Eight or ten ears of corn in the middle of the road near my house, run over. A bag of onions abandoned at the curb on the exit off I-70 near where I work. And today, a watermelon thrown off an overpass near Sykesville.

What happened? I mean, watermelons are expensive this time of year! I have no idea what the melon could have said or done to be shot-putted over the guard fence and 40 feet to the pavement below. It was blown all over the road.

As I mentioned, Martha and I had an amazing conversation last night. It's now this afternoon, and I am supposed to meet a lady lawyer in a few minutes, but I can already feel myself thinking, "well, we could end up friends or something." Why do I do this? Why do I project so much onto someone who's 2,782 miles away instead of just trying to not turn my nose up at women in the DC area?

I mean, this woman I'm supposed to meet is reasonably attractive, obviously smart and successful, and says she dresses well even when she doesn't have to (you know how appealing that is for me by now). Yet I'm having a hard time psyching myself up to meet her.

The appraisal for my refinance is scheduled for a week from today, so I basically have a week to be a white tornado (not a Pork Tornado) and turn the thing into something that looks like it's worth something. Mostly, this involves putting things away and power-washing the hell out of everything. I do have to trim some trees and maybe paint things, but mostly I just need to straighten things up and vacuum a lot. And Avery and the last of the barky dogs has to be gone. I think he's pretty close to vanishing, because his guitar --apparently the last thing he moves -- appears to be packed and ready to move. In my head, in another five days I suspect that anything I find left out of place will end up mysteriously being sent into orbit, or hidden until after the appraisal. I have a lot of stuff I will want to put in the space his ass and his dogs are at least partly still occupying.

Overall, the thing will save me maybe fifty bucks a month, but what it'll really save me is from having to deal with the idiots at First Tennessee's home-equity department. I've already talked about them, so I won't do it again now.

I should have had lunch. I just know I'll meet this woman, have a martini on an empty stomach and it'll hit me like a cue ball between the eyes.