Today, I walk into the post office. For once, it's entirely empty. The two folks who work there are having a friendly debate. The woman asks me, "Is 'addictable' a word?"
I say I don't think so. At least, I've never heard of it.
She snaps her fingers. "Hold on. It's addicting, right?"
"Or addictive."
"That's it!" she says, brightening. She turns back to her computer.
Her colleague helps me out with the two submissions I'm mailing. There's a problem with the zip code and he does some research. Because of this, he sees the university press addresses. "You an English major?" he asks.
"A writer," I reply.
Both of the folks behind the counter fall about laughing. What, they ask, are the chances of a writer walking in just when they need the answer to a vocabulary conundrum?
I laugh along, but it doesn't surprise me any more. I attract these situations like a magnet. Are there radio-waves? Because this happens all the time. Seriously. Every couple of weeks a stranger asks me something. And it's always writing-related -- a book, a spelling, a word. Do you get this yourself? Regularly?
Synchronicity, says Jung.
Or is language simply everywhere?
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