Anyone who dismisses the notion of The Full Moon having an undesirable effect on people should consider working in a public library for just a few scant hours.
This past week has been especially trying and I confess that I have been fantasizing about wine at an hour that many would consider a bad sign …
Yesterday I had a (seemingly) very nice gentleman present himself at the reference desk in a dapper, tweed jacket and matching trilby. He smiled and said he wanted to know exactly what becoming a “vegan” might entail.
This is not an unusual question at all and since I also have a particular interest in food myself, I wasted no time in steering him to my favorite vegan cookbook writers, noting the most popular vegan restaurants close by and generally offering up any other suggestions that I could think of.
Fortified with this information, here is how our conversation went:
Often I find myself unable to sleep or feeling anxious (alright, super anxious) for no good reason and then, as I sit upright in bed and see the narrow, silvery light coming through the window in my bedroom making that long stripe across the floor, I suddenly realize that oh yes.
A full moon cometh.
