Storms and sushi

I like watching people making sushi. It's like watching someone paint.

I don't have very much insight into the rest of today, though. It rained really hard. For some reason, most of that rain came in through my window. I needed a garbage can to catch all of the water. And towels. And I think I got most of it. Phew.

I also had this strange realization and I have it almost every time it happens to me. I find that whenever I hear myself discussing the weather with someone else, I immediately know that I have almost nothing to say to that person. Not only do I have nothing to say to them, I feel like they would rather I were anywhere but near them. It's sadly the only thing I have in common with them at that given point in time -- the fact that we're both alive and breathing air and subject to our environment. I may have other things in common with this person, but either they or I have chosen to lock up all of those doors, batten (is that a word?) our own personal emotional hatches and hide out inside ourselves until this hurricane of socializing passes by. The Perfect Interpersonal Storm, as it were. So, weather=death knell for conversation. It's hard for me to recover completely from bringing up the weather. I think I'll need to work on some other thing that everyone on the planet has in common so I can use that instead. Might be a good variation to work in.

This has nothing to do with sushi, though. I always order too much sushi because it looks so very good and sounds so very good when I order it. I have a feeling day old sushi isn't quite the same, though I don't know if I've ever actually had day old sushi.

I think Day Old Sushi would be a good name for a band, though.