I've set up my profile. Is that who I am? It's strange to try to narrow yourself down that way. There's no slot for me to fill in about how good I am at guessing what time it is, while being completely incapable of guessing someone's age. I know a child when I see one, and I can recognize a geriatric, but that's about as good as it gets.

Or how I can remember specific conversations I've had with a friend of mine (where, when, items of clothing, direct quotes), conversations from five or six years ago, but up until last year, I couldn't tell you for certain what color his eyes were without looking. And the only reason I know now is that I made a concious effort to make note of it one day. Are we really meant to pay attention to everything? There's just so much going on all of the time, and all of it's worth something. Have I just rambled on in a terrible way? Well, to summarize, profiles are brief, and people are not. I guess.

In other news, I made the terrible mistake of going to the post office this afternoon. Through years of careful study, I've determined that 2:15 P.M. is optimum post office time. It is rivaled only by the pre-lunch lull of 11:30 A.M.for short lines, and usually comes out ahead. Unfortunately, tax day turns ideal trips to the post office on their ears. The line went all the way to the outer door.

At the end of the experience I found I had lost faith in my local postal employees (how could they all but one go on break with a line that long?) and realized that my long-held opinion of a certain elderly neighbor of mine (that he was a good-natured old man with a heart of gold, who would never ever swear at an old woman and call her an idiot for mislabeling a package and slowing down the line) was entirely wrong. But I did manage to get my package. Saddle shoes! So I guess it's not so bad.