I've been thinking lately about what my ideal, realistic job might be, and what concessions I might make to get close to that job. I'm going to just spew those ideas here, in no particular order.
A month or so ago, I took a walk around the neighborhood with Berta, as we often do after dinner when there's still light out and the heat isn't overbearing. These walks often contain what feels like awkward silence, or rather, they would if I would ever shut up. For whatever reason, regardless of the breathlessness the pace and incline induces on my completely out-of-shape and asthmatic self, I can't help but take the opportunity to fill the silence with some chatter. At some point, I'll have to ask Berta if she feels this is my habit and whether she'd rather walk silently, since although she does contribute, I feel like she'd rather just walk with her thoughts unpolluted.