It's 72 degrees in Cleveland, and life is good.

Z put air in my tires today. I'm not protecting his anonymity, he said his name was Z. He asked my name as we drove around together to see if my steering wheel still vibrated with full tires. It did not. I said my name was Barb, he repeated it, and I meant to say Barbara. I am becoming more Barbara. I've always had trouble with the name. It's big. I'm growing into it. Barbara is sexy, though. With Z, Barbara could've gotten me into trouble. But Barb got me free air and this entry.

On our five minute excursion we stopped behind a truck with a "I heart diving" sticker. I said to Z, before I knew his name, "That guy likes diving. I've never even dove." He asked if I wanted to dive. I said it would be nice to overcome a fear. He said he dove in Australia (I was just talking about a swimming pool). Whoa.

The last letter of the alphabet is so underrated. Anybody need more ZZZZs? Stop at the gas station on 260th and Lakeland. He's the tall, dark one with the pleasant foreign accent.