Morning of revisions

Morning of revisions and submissions. Morning of keeping the house clean for company. Morning of pros and cons of InDesign's paragraph composer. Morning of wasted words. At noon there's lunch, a garden salad and Boboli pizza with meatball and lots of garlic. Espresso chip ice cream for dessert. Vaughn will have strawberry shortcake later with her friend Lexa when she visits. I head out early for work. Vaughn insists I take something, she gives me a small green E magnet. I get in my Civic, put my supper bag down on the passenger seat, and set the E down in the small plastic tray under the emergency brake. Mini-van mamas must be the fastest drivers on the road. I wonder if they could all be married to Nascar papas. Probably Nascar papas wouldn't drive so fast. And it is a fast ride into work. Light traffic for a summer Friday. Pulling up onto the new bridge off of White Turkey Junction in Danbury, the clouds catch my eye. Clouds over and on other clouds like layers of white paint on a blue canvas. Against this mountainously cloudy sky a red balloon moving sideways more than up. Moving at a good clip, too. Moving while I'm stopped in my car at a red light. Alt rock lending a soothing crunching tune to the tiny mosquito banging against my driver-side window. Try to flick him dead with the back of my hand. Again. And again. Got him. Later at work J____ will be cleaning a graphic the publisher referred to as a mosquito, but for which the file name is wasp.tif. When she's done she stands up in her cubicle, turns around toward mine and asks if that's a wasp or a mosquito. After we joke a bit, I finish with "Look at that long body; it has to be a wasp. A mosquito's just dust with wings."