Left work today at 12:30 for a 1:45 doctor's appointment in Brooklyn. I just figured, based on appointments past, that I would't be finished with enough time to make it back for a meaningful afternoon of work. However, I was outta there by 2:30.

Then I was faced with the small dilemma--should I hop on a train and go back to work, after having made such a nice, clean getaway?

With a small amount of guilt, I decided to bag work and take the rest of the day off. Why waste two more hours of life riding back and forth on the train?

So I went to the Salvation Army conveniently located by the clinic and bought what I thought were great bargains: a nice J Crew belted cardigan for slouchy, Katharine Hepburn-y days; a pair of size 8 Gap jeans to supplement my denim collection which is quickly becoming useless by my encroaching chubbage; and a pair of Banana Republic all-purpose khaki "I am Caucasian" shorts because I currently have no presentable short pants to wear in the remaining hot days of summer.

On my way to the train, many blocks away, I was stopped by a young British hipster who said "Have you been shopping at the Salvation Army?" She had made an educated guess based on the non-descript bag I was carrying. I gave her instructions on how to get there and advised her about other thrift stores nearby.

When I got home, I found that the supposedly "size 8" Gap jeans are unwearably small--they must have been mis-sized. And the shorts have a broken zipper. Bummer. I don't have a lot of money to throw away on clothes (which is why I was in the SA in the first place), so this feels really wasteful.

And the cockerpoo lady, who had cancelled last night and rescheduled for tonight, called to say that she gave the dog to someone else.

That's OK, though, I suspect that Coney wouldn't have appreciated this dog's personality. Based on the photo's I've seen, he looked a little too bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Smoov C. needs a mellow sibling, someone with soul, someone who's suffered....