What plopped out of my paper drift this week was my misplaced printout of the governor's proposed budget.
Yep, there it was in the small type on the second page of my reservation printout.
I was also given my EKG printout, a memento of sorts.
Based on my misleading map printout from the Web site, we first ended up at a poison ivy bed by the waterfront and then realized that we needed to snake up the mountain road through J. A. Skinner State Park in Hadley, Mass.
I am satisfied with a couple of days' work well done as I reach for my final AA printout, the Brighton to London leg (the equivalent part of Genevieve is the bit where Dinah Sheridan drops an egg sandwich, if memory serves).
Some of the results were available immediately, including a graphic printout ranking my arterial plaque buildup against my age group.
My advice, keep a printout for back-up just in case.
When I wasn't with it I hid the printout in my closet, where no one else could find it.
Curious about the hype, I picked up a copy of Susan Cain's Quiet and felt like I was reading a printout of my innermost feelings and thoughts.
