Sometimes I lack a language with which to speak.
I ran from my house this morning in my pajamas, to my car, in hopes of preventing a parking ticket. I forgot to etch in my memory that Tuesday is the one day where you cannot park on the right hand side of the street from 9:30am to 10:30am. One hour, in a week that presents the possibility of 168 hours, I was parked on the wrong side. That was a forty two dollar lapse.
When I got to my destination, still pajama clad, I looked at the sign before I parked. Mardi my eyes read; my brain translated as