The title of this post is: Sunday.
It’s Sunday. I generally love Sundays and this day is no exception to the rule. You should see the sun streaming in my window, past my nearly dead parsley, making shadows dance on the walls . Apparently gardening is not one of my strong suits. If I had not tried it I probably would have told you with some amount of surety that these thumbs are far from green. I’ve never entrusted myself with keeping something alive. I refuse to give up though. In fact, just this morning I gave my poor Italian flat leaf parsley a large drink of water followed by a mean pep talk. The kind of pep talk most aptly utilized in sports movies, where the team is losing by a colossal margin, tensions are high, and morale is at an all time low. Yeah, it was that good. I’m considering a career in horticultural motivational speaking. Stay tuned for more on that subject.
On this particular Sunday, I will bravely go where most have gone before, to reclaim my life in debit card form. After forcing my wallet to fend for itself in the ‘devil’s playground’ (as the Amish would say) , I’ve come to the conclusion that “people” are mainly good, in contrast to my ealier assumption. I’m not even terribly upset about wallet’s previous occupant, fiddy quid, being drawn over to the dark side and taking Metro Pass with it. In fact, I’m so ecstatic that I’m not going to spend my entire life replacing I.D’s and worrying about my identity being stolen(thanks for that one Mum), that I’m even thinking about inducting Jim – toothless, round bellied man with serious tobacco addiction – into some sort of good Samaritan hall of fame. In all seriousness - as you’re reading this, our lovely Jim could be marinating in my lingerie, enjoying the new death cab for cutie album (which isn’t even that good), and seriously fucking over my credit, all while masquerading as ME – toothy, flat bellied young woman, with penchance for recklessness and squalor.
Jim, I owe ya one! And enterprising sex worker Linda as well, who works a telephone like she works her johns – fast and efficient. You two are one dynamic duo!
Speaking of dynamic duos – or not so dynamic duos for the purpose of this waxing – how does one know when it’s time to calibrate, convert, or simply terminate. I’ve been navigating this quandary for quite some time. It seems that more than half of the equation is checking the time, thinking it’s time, or even asking the question: ‘Is it time?’ Perhaps the most indescipherable aspect of the riddle is: ‘Why is it time?’.
On a seemingly unrelated note, please consider these words of wisdom, courtesy of yours truly.
Opening your relationship is step one of the separation process – a wound blazes the way to reconciliation.
Leave a Reply