The Ninth Circle of Maine

With so many levels of humanity, I sometimes wonder why it is my fate to spend so much time near the bottom. Not that I want to occupy any seats of power or royal thrones or even run-of-the-mill political offices. And having been a boss several times in my career, I hated being responsible for other people's productivity and promptly started climbing my way back down the ladder. Not sure, but I may have gone a tad too far down.

This morning I went for a job interview and finally was offered a writing position in the state of Maine. It pays $20 per week. I accepted it. Not only that, I am looking forward to it. That was the good part of the day. Soon after after that I went for a haircut, a horror I endure every two months. I also get my hair colored, which should come as no surprise seeing as how I became addicted to the practice at a very young age (6). Nevertheless, I hate having a stranger's hands all over my head, also a result of something that happened at a very young age (4).

So there I was, with my own particular set of phobic feelings, and since I have been quite short of sleep these last few days, I nodded off during the proceedings. Each time I awoke I heard a variation of the the following conversation taking place right into my ears, between the woman doing my hair color and another stylist with time on her hands. At one point I thought it was a dream, but it turned out not to be:

First Stylist: So do you let your bunnies go outside?
Second One: Sometimes, but not all of them. Last week Mrs. Higglesbottom got out, and it was so scary.
First: Oh no! Was that the first time she got out?
Second: Well sometimes we let them out, but Mrs. Snugglesbottom never goes out, so we had to go chasing her....
First: I never let my bunnies outside. My chickens are outside a lot though.
Second:  Well of course. Mine too.

A cell phone with pictures of two little bunnies appeared directly in front of my face. Mrs. Cuddlebottoms was pointed out to me. I went back to sleep. Then on the way home I turned on a local radio news station and heard that suicides are up in Maine, as well as arrests for heroin possession. Small wonder.