As honestly nervous as I had been about starting my job, I feel immensely serene and comfortable at the moment – perhaps residual codeine from passing the kidney stone. I sit waiting, early for the taking of my picture I.D.

Interesting though, I have been feeling this more and more away from home, less and less at home (unless on codeine). Procuring groceries may make a difference. Gus and I are at that stage, that precarious point, with empty cupboards and empty pockets, which makes us empty of sympathy for each other. Both unwell. Both looking to be taken care of, it’s the battle of the worse off. I sit sipping my latte.

“Look here,” a woman behind a computer to0 large for her office points. I look up.
“Wait right there. Your I.D. will be up in a sec.” She sighs as though reading from a script.

Plain, no sugar. The warm liquid spills past my mouth. Oddly, this is an exact description of my I.D. picture as the woman drops it in my hand.