It's strange, as a human, to be phased out, like a pair of pants you used to wear all the time but now you only put on when you can't find anything else. I think I'd rather be stuffed in a bag and sent off to Good Will, where at least someone might cut me into pieces and make a quilt of me, or use me for painting.
It's also strange to dream of big red white and blue ship launchings, and the random severed arm here and there, but I'll have to wait to think about that until I get on the train because I'm already running late and as usual I can't find any pants to wear.
Big day today, could be do-or-die for the Volvo. Hoping she's still got a few months to go...
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