Now Playing: Paradise by the Dashboard Light by Meatloaf (The raccoon insists. Sigh.) 

Word Raccoon was impolite today at the thrift shop. She was in the men’s wear aisle, stroking a jacket sleeve, when a woman went by and though WR moved her cart, the woman bumped her anyway. WR must have given the woman quite a look because the poor thing apologized twice. 

Probably good that it happened, because WR was getting teary for no good reason. She’s just ridiculously tenderhearted some days, that raccoon. 

Like, Tuesday evening a car went by, and she kept thinking of the Meatloaf song “Paradise by the Dashboard Light” and now she can’t get it out of her head, as juvenile and overly dramatic as it is. (Not to say reprehensible in parts.) 

Well, I say for no good reason. Today has been gray (what is it with days getting nicer in the afternoon lately?), I had forced her to watch a webinar for an hour and a half and she refused to drink the caffeine because it was cold and we were outside.

Oh, and instead of playing a fun game or something in the background while we watched/listened to the webinar, I made her work on the budget. 

Did you ever have to break a yearly expense down into months? Sure, it’s easy enough but it’s boring. Multiply that with as many subscriptions (streaming and otherwise) that we all have nowadays. 

“So, WR, how much is our yearly subscription to Authors Guild worth?”

“Worth or how much do we pay?”

She’s sassy and no, she’s not going to cancel it. 

Though she wanted to double our Coke Zero budget, I convinced her she can send out more poetry if she doesn’t. (Those fees add up!)  

Then I forgot to feed her lunch today again. Mistake. So undercaffeinated, underfed, undersunned, I took her into the thrift shop.

She was also irritated because she wanted to get cash from the ATM beforehand, but some stupid guy (her words) was putting up a poster on one side of it and blocking the way. Which meant she knew she was going to the thrift shop with little cash, likely not enough to buy what she wanted.

She wanted a set of vintage pink light fixtures she had spied last week. When I asked her what she was going to do with them, she said use them as book ends. 

Inventive. I approve. What do you think? 

Well, we didn’t have enough cash and of course we never think to carry a check. We could’ve bought one but not both. But no, no, she didn’t want to do that. 

“If someone buys them, they should get the set,” she said. “They should be together.”

We have a hair appointment tomorrow morning, so maybe we’ll stop in before then and see if they’re still there. I’m going to try to get her to stay in the car so she doesn’t snap at anyone if they’re not.

God knows what kind of wounds I’ll end up with if I come out without them. 

At the library after the thrift shop, she went straight to the desk to pick up a book. She gave me time to grab a Booklist magazine as well, and then she was out of there. 

Has she forgotten we like the books? 

After I fed her, she calmed down and I even got her to submit to a couple of poetry markets. (Turns out September is THE submission season?? No one told me.) 

Silly Raccoon went and started another poetry collection, btw. 

But enough for now.

No, WR, I’m not going to say that. At least not aloud. 

Word Raccoon might consider dashboard (or other interior) lights to be paradise, sure, but she ain’t as needy as that gorl in the song. 

Or maybe she is. But we aren’t saying so.