I should learn a few more chords on my guitar and start a band. We’d probably be one of those terrible bands that changes their name more than they actually ever write or play music, but we’d always have really amazing band names and probably equally excellent t-shirt designs. So you should probably get ahead of the game and just start being our fans now before someone hears of us and we have to change our name and you have to resign yourself to being a damn hipster.
There’s a dying rainstorm leaving us. It came with the kind of light show you would think would portend something epic and tremendous happening in the firmament, maybe like Heaven got The Avengers on IMAX or something. But it was miraculous enough with just cannons and rocketfire and the occasional darting appearance of neon white veins across the smoked-out cloudscape.
As for other things, well, there are other things which is nice to talk about apart from the notable weather.
My weight was, as I was pretty well aware, up a tisch this morning. That’s what happens when you justify straying. So I am fully re-horsed, with bike riding, a longish walk about and low-carb eating making me feel much better physically. Funny how you give yourself the option to screw up and there is nothing about eating that feels good accept that quick flare of relief that your addiction was satisfied. It’s like, oh, fuck, I ate all that bread. Well. That’s going to mess with me, I sure am delighted I did that so randomly and impulsively. I’m sure going to remember that bread until the day I die. Except, of course, it was utterly without meaning and making my stomach knot up as well as turn the volume back up on the voices in my head that just keep saying “Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, don’t change ever, buy Chipotle, grow into your mattress, the best thing about death is the absence of the fear of death.” You know, the awesome voices that project stagnancy is the same as security.
So, I am doing what I can to get those voices, among others, muted. I’ll see what I say in the morning. Gotta continue to think positive and do things I love – like read. Read some more of The Bean Trees and remembered why I loved it so much the first time. I think I like re-reading it now in light of having read more of Barbara Kingsolver’s non-fiction and knowing something about her circumstances and life.
This morning was really good, though, because I set my timer and got things done in 7 minute sections at a time. Cleaned out the drawer in the night table which was so overloaded with pens and batteries and random junk drawer detritus that it was getting difficult to close.
Small pleasures. Your anthologist, journalist, whatever I am, has a rather Amelie-like life, save perhaps, the end. But there is always tomorrow.