Would I rather play outside or inside? Manage or be managed? Help others or kick them in the shins?

Easy, cheesy: Inside, manage, kick.

The end results were mostly grayed out, the page saying that I could pay $15 to see the results of my free MAPP test. One section was still available, though, and showed the two areas that I would do well in: �abstract, innovative, creative activities� and �routine, organized, methodical procedures�.

Talk about a contradiction, heh?

And in the spirit of this, I sporadically decided to order some chicken and potatoes for lunch.

Yes, I�m a vegetarian. Yes, I eat completely vegan at home. I was merely wondering if I could eat the fried and breaded breast strips I hadn�t had in so long. I skipped my Taco Bell cheeseless bean burrito and ordered a chicken strips meal from KFC instead.

I took the long way around the block to the Daley Plaza, enjoying how the 65 degree wind blew through my hair and gave me small goose bumps on my upper arms. I sat under the plaza�s sculpture as I usually do, and opened my box of chicken with double mashed potatoes and a biscuit.

A man was feeding the pigeons, and I damned him for attracting the vermin birds over to where so many people eat. Visions of a pigeon pooping all over my lunch and the world�s most perfect pants danced through my head, when I decided to quit being so damn grumpy and enjoy watching them chase the tossed French fries.

I giggled quietly as they fought over pieces of everything else people began tossing at them. Bread crust was snatched up. Pizza was chased. Potato chips were swarmed to. And this one curious pigeon approached me as I started opening my KFC box.

He cautiously approached and started pecking at the nearby crumbs left by other lunch-goers. He flinched a little when I raised my hand to brush my hair behind my ear, and I caught a glance at his birdie face.

A look of inquiry popped across his fowl face and he waddled even closer to me to examine my lunch box�s contents. I picked off some chicken breading and tossed it beside me, and he was right next to my foot.

His beady little eyes locked with mine for a second and I heard him think, �Yum, I want some more.�

I picked off the fried flour outside and shared my biscuit with this new friend as all others ignored the feast he received and continued fighting for sandwich bread bits.

If a pigeon -- a dirty, rotten, rat-of-a-bird -- could be this interesting, I�m sure capon could be the same.

Then I remembered Johnny the Rooster who grew up in the chicken hutch in my back yard in Southeast Texas, HEN-rietta who laid us eggs, the eight baby chicks who grew up from some of those eggs to lay more eggs for breakfast scrambles, and the chicks who grew from their eggs who I was so sad to learn were eaten by the neighbor�s dogs when they squeezed their way under the fence into unsafe territory.

The chicken tenders got tossed as I walked back to work. I�ll stick with my vegan bean burrito from now on.�