Fire In the Belly

I took a huge hamper full of packages to the post office for weighing, today. Shipping is freaking expensive! I've been doing calculations and tallies all day, and hope it's all worth it. I'm scared people might change their minds when they see the shipping totals, and this despite the very low prices of the actual items. I be po'. So very, very po', and this selling stuff business is pretty much a fulltime job.

It's a rather warm day, so I dressed for the occasion. While I'm sitting on the floor in a sports bra and stretch jeans organizing packages, I hear a tap-tap-tap at my door. I get up to answer it. Two young men are there, and when they see me in all my half-clothed glory, they stammer a bit and grin a lot. They're here to sell me cable services.

"No thanks," I say. "I'm moving away shortly."

They stammer and smile some more, and then leave.

Sometimes I forget that the way I dress--just to be comfy--makes some guys act like puberty just knocked them about the head. My belly can make men weep. Enh. Whatever. I'm likely to be kicked and/or punched in that same belly at kung fu tonight.

My belly may make 'em weep, but my facial expressions make 'em laugh. I'm a big goof.