Semi-Daily Scribbles

Gary's less stressed these days. The lights he used to see when he closed his eyes now follow him around like fireflies. Those firefly-like lights create a shimmery rooster tail in Gary's wake as he makes his way through the Food Court. Even the tinkling ring of cat bells, once confined solely to Gary's auris interna, replaces the mall's Muzak loop of 80's pop hits. Gary's feeling more in his skin than ever before. He credits this new-found sense of wholeness to his two daily 6 oz doses of apple cider vinegar and the intriguing vixen he pretends to ignore who, Gary assumes, is writing something of major significance. Gary's Great Secret, which once weighed upon his entire being and made it really hard to take deep, vivifying breaths, is about to be blown wide open. All he has to do is gather up his gumption and approach the aforementioned writerly vixen and tell her he's been having …