Here is today’s foothold of truth. Keep busy. The days will run by and you may have your regrets and your little troubles, but keep busy and you’ll keep yourself above board. And that’s a safe place to be until you get a grip on your bigger dreams and better name and your wisdom starts to turn a soft yellow in front of your eyes.
There was a cashier at Office Max. He had a giant belt buckle. A belt buckle bigger than God. And when you go up to the desk with your USB drive that you aren’t even sure you need to buy, but doesn’t everyone need a spare flashdrive for general flashing purposes and it takes all your willpower not to gaze at that belt buckle, so silvery-steely and cast in the shape in the shape of a giant lion head with an impressively coiffed and vicious mane blowing in the hypothetical wind. Such a belt buckle must mean something, you think, if not psychological, then it must imply some geekish interests, some simpatico of understanding that you both must have. And you are utterly aware of the shirt and the push-up bra and the precarious state of your apparel and you smile and ignore any implications in the situation and take your USB drive and your receipt and some finagling with the card reader and go, leaving the young man with the massive belt buckle to whatever devices such a man would employ.
My love life, ladies and gentlemen.
What am I thinking about tonight as the sands slip through the hourglass and the countdown begins before I attempt the bed and dreamlife of a much better person, one who makes glib light of belt buckles and can rest soundly on a bed of nails is this. I am profoundly graceless, I am messy and self-involved and terrible. These are personality flaws I cannot disavow because they are embroidered in the fabric of my body, little colored flosses of defect that flourish and border my white linen. But I am not incommodious. I am not ungenerous. I do not fail to try hard to make things pleasant and to cut away the frayed, stained bits. This is not so obvious, perhaps, not 100% of the time, but I hope and I pray that tomorrow, my grand idea of ease and delight for this process will go as it should. I have worked my fingers to the bone and I think some of my aches and pains can be owed up to this devil-may-care attention to the project and I want, more than anything, for the images to load and the jurors to review them and for the day to quickly and well.
Once tomorrow is over, somehow, we can lower the dial and get back to summer, frenetic and ridiculous, but not belonging to me. Summer is a whole universe of change and motion and progress and plans and I can be a cog in them. Not a fancy pants director of anything.
Mainly, I don’t want anyone to yell and I don’t want to be late.