Think then act,

I need a house. It's official. I'm not made for apartment living. I need a basement, a garage and a backyard.

I had been to a Vietnamese restaurant for dinner with friends. Upon the plate had come a herb stalk. At first glance, I looked and went basil. The flower was basil, the shine on the leaf was basil but the leaf shape wasn't quite right. So I crushed a leaf and inhaled. Not basil. I was perplexed. One of my friends decided it was cilantro. We asked. The waitress said it was basil. I was annoyed. I am a closet herbalist. I know my herbs or I did back when I had a herb garden growing wild. My window box herb garden is dead. I even killed my bay tree which makes me cry. I need a backyard so I can put in a proper herb garden.

I came home. My last picture from my art class was mainly charcoal. It needed to be sprayed with fixative. So I decided that I would spray it. The only room with two windows that open wide is my bedroom. I opened the windows wide, laid the picture on my bed and let 'er rip with the spray can. Mid-spray I remembered that this stuff is supposed to be toxic and I'm spraying it in my bedroom. I'm also about to get ready for bed. The door to my bedroom is closed as I hope it ventilates quickly or I'm sleeping on the couch.

I am my father's daughter. I need a basement and a garage. I shouldn't be allowed to play with chemicals in an enclosed space.