Zoom-zoom. Off I head to that first appointment at The Different Office – the one where no one has arrived yet, and I, I have no keys…ummmm. I phone my client to reschedule for the next hour and off I head to gather another key. Ohh, the humiliation. I still hope to find my keys in the most obvious place I would never look. Fortunately I have the Tile now – just need to set it up before I lose keys again….
I am beginning to understand – we are but minions trying to knock down a tremendous wall: a wall of (as I mentioned yesterday) ingrained cultural norms, of uninformed family members who may truly believe they are doing their best to help out when in fact they are speeding up the destruction, by individuals who are so comfortable in their dis-ease that they sabotage themselves and everything we try to do. These are the trenches – this is where so many come to try so slow the ever-increasing speed of the whirlpool. The stories are he
artbreaking and it is day in, day out. It certainly changes my outlook on life.
Ok, this Match thing. Holy fuck. How about we use some current pictures(mine are all from the last year except for one which was taken 2 years ago). Not even a week into dating and I’m already tired! Other than a handful, it’s the same faces and I have less than zero interest in any of them. I know , I know – you can’t tell unless you meet them. I get that – but I want to venture OUTWARD – not stay here and go fishing. Yes, I like camping, but not 6 feet away from the next guy (unless it’s at Hipnic, HSMF or Hips High Camp). I’m screwed and not in the right way. I know this is a pathetic thing to say, but I’m never going to have sex again. I can’t, I WON’T join the hook-up scene, and at this this rate (5+ years to get “started”) – what’s gonna happen?! However, I never mentioned that while waiting for date number 3, another guy started talking to me. He was parked next to me and it was kind of a cool conversation. I didn’t get sparks, but maybe I’ll give him a call.
This time of year, whenever I hear a plane or copters I worry it’s another fire. The temperature is so hot, poor Wicked Tree seems to be melting and the air looks like hot oven-air. I have my thermostat set to 80 and while it accomplishes its task in my back bedroom, these pitched cathedral ceilings are an energy nightmare. I miss little houses. Semi-silver lining though: Mabi found the cool air from the grate and loves to lie there.
This wool rug – I’m not happy at all with it. It was for Europe – it would have looked so perfect there, but it doesn’t fit here at all. I’m out of sorts; I don’t belong in this house (too bit – too much), I truly didn’t think we’d still be here come July 16…and now I’m looking for a partner. My goodness, but I move quickly, huh? I know – things are moving, I can feel it. Defenses are dropping, I think. But for now, since I finished Stranger Things, Sherlock awaits.
Picture: A web, Wicked Tree and Buddha contemplate life.
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