mousy

Last night I met a new friend. We went to a Peet's, but he was hungry, so we went to a taqueria, and I watched him eat a chicken burrito. He was very good at eating and talking at the same time. He told me all about his life. I was a good listener but a bad talker, which is often my way.

Tonight choir practice was hellish. P can't sing because of the work that was done on her esophagus, so we were singing alone, and we sound like crap. My voice is as quiet as the squeak of a mouse. So it doesn't matter how well I know the songs because no one can hear me anyway.

The past few days have been excellent mail days, with all the Christmas cards, and some good letters as well.