Saturday, March 2, 2013

I had a friend who said I think too much

Thoughts as I wait for M— to shower so we can get our nails done:

*I hate chick-flicks, except the ones I like.*I hate waiting, unless it's pleasantly assured that the other end of the deal (e.i. the thing I'm waiting for) is going to turn in my favor.*I dislike the work ethic of Happytowne's Fouth District Court judge. How long can it possibly take to sign your name?*I dislike February, cuz she's not a tease. I flirt with March because he is.*I like Saturdays and the challenge of writing something brilliant in only 400-600 words. (I will do this. It will be incredible.)*I like blue skies and caffeine, but I couldn't tell you in which order those fall.*I like dreaming and planning and over-writing, because my readers know they like it and say so, even if they toss out that "you can cut back" modifier because they think...   I haven't figured out what they're thinking yet, except that I dose them up with the well-written and... (My poor Women's Lit/Ethics professors.)*I like manicures as long as the polish is clear.*I'm addicted to texture.*I'm not sure how God stuffed my soul into this casing. It's been squirming at the fit ever since. Phat soul.*I think I'm doing a pretty good job at parenting. But I have short term and sometimes long term memory issues. For everything I've conveniently forgotten I can tell you I like what I've got.*Last night the idea of climbing all seven peaks in Happy Valley in a single summer seemed like a great one. It's amazing the self-confidence I can muster at midnight.*I live with my first ex-husband. Well, on the south side of his house. I must be weird. I'm enjoying it. He's still the same person, with all the same reasons that I didn't want to remain married. But as the guy who insists on methodically cleaning the kitchen in his own computer-programing logical fashion, and still being completely chill about how cluttered the kids get the house, it's working as well as I think a shared living arrangement of this sort can.*Life is doable. Lost expectations and all.*I write poems about and alluding to philosophy, and everything in between; including Bakers and their bread, which have become my favorite personal idiom—almost mantra. Forget the fish, I'll take the loaves, even if I can only dream of eating.

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