There's this couple I see in the coffee shop. Here's the deal with them: They're both assholes. He's a jerk and she's a... well, she is. It's not a matter of opinion. You 
can easily see this for yourself if you can stand to hear them talk for more than ten seconds. Here's the interesting thing: They are so sweet to each other. They listen to each other gripe and they sympathize, each contributing vitriol to the other's cause. They take care of each other in small ways, helping each other. It is the nature of their relationship that they are pitted, together, against the world. They don't turn their ire inward. She will smile at him and fix his collar. He will get her coffee and tell her she looks pretty. They always share a lovely kiss before they get into their respective cars to rage the roads to work. It is asshole bliss, and it's sweet in its way.
Also there is the following.
It occurred to me as I watched the lady in front of me buying cigarettes at the gas station counter this morning that she is the goddess of buying cigarettes at the gas station. Maybe you've heard of her? It's rare to glimpse her, and she looks nothing like you might imagine. She's small and old and dried out, like a prune, and her laugh is gruff. When she buys cigarettes at a gas station, however, there is a glow deep in her eyes, and you can feel the virtue of her benevolence issuing from her to bless her children. I watched her drive away in her pickup and wondered where she would go next. Maybe you've seen her? You'd remember if you did.
And now, a poem.
The clouds today are low and grey
And as I join the herd
My heart inside is light and gay
In the traditional sense of the word
Hello, friends. How are you today?
Later. Love.
