I'll be hanging around hospitals until October anyway, according to the current version of the plan, and I keep noticing little ways in which they're different.

They seem to generate euphemisms, or more strictly, potential sexual euphemisms, at a rate somewhat greater than the typical organization. Perhaps it's all that life and death going on, and people keep unconsciously reaching for our species' best emollient for those agonies. Perhaps it's just me, the frame of mind I'm in. I've been spending too much time with shapely sweethearts who whisper to me of their current frustrations, and ask aloud when I'm coming to their homes for a visit. (While seeing those two things as completely unrelated, I hasten to add.) Either way, I find myself smirking at phrases that pass me, even more often than usual.

Walking through a parking lot today, I saw a sign on a vehicle dash, intended to keep it untowed:

Pillow Express Logistics Service

It reminded me of the friend with whom I used to talk about needing my logistics straightened out...

I resisted the urge to peek into the car's back seat. I'd love to find her again, it's been years, but I'm almost certain it won't be that simple.