I have flowers growing in my back yard. I first thought they were weeds, albeit pretty purple ones, but weeds nonetheless. There are a lot of them and they were left when the mower came the other day. Saturday, I picked one to smell it because the bees are very fond of them. They’re hyacinths (I think that’s what they’re called, anyway) and smell lovely. But, because they don’t get the morning sun, they’re barely blooming. I wish I could bolster them, but hopefully this means that they’ll last a lot longer than the ones in my neighbor’s yard that are fully blossomed.
I also have one lone tulip that opened to the day Saturday. A striking red, it is. I thought it might be a daffodil last month.
My gardening knowledge knows no bounds, apparently.
Sometimes I go to the bar in the evenings when I have nothing to do. I usually go by myself as my friend(s) usually have other Normal Things to occupy their weeknights with. I sit in mostly the same spot and am generally recognized, but rarely talk to anyone there. Sometimes idle chat ensues, and sometimes I carry it on. Sometimes I sit and listen and talk to the people that no one else will listen to either out of fear of asking for money or a latching onto that sometimes occurs with regular folk like that. I don’t care. I think everyone deserves to be listened to once in awhile. Hopefully one day, someone will listen to me when I’m old and sitting there (probably on the same stool) and haven’t spoken a thought out loud within earshot of another person in weeks.
I sit at work and look at awards and certificates and other random paperwork and wonder where the last 8 years of my life have gotten to. Would the Me that started this job in 2000 recognize the Me that’s sitting here now? What happened to the Dream I was chasing when I started? A house, a family, a less stressful career, etc., etc. Somewhere in between starting to care too much about work and not enough about Important Things and alleviating boredom at work and at home, I lost sight of a lot of things. I suppose that happens to most people, though, and takes a lot of conscious effort everyday to not do so. Apparently, though, no one around me learns by example, only by doing…much to my dismay and theirs, eventually I’m sure.
I want another tattoo. I don’t need any more. But, I want 3 more smallish ones. Now. I wish I knew what was going to happen with the economy and gas prices and all that bullshit. I mean, I know what I think is going to happen which should make me want to horde my money. It, however, does not. It pisses me off and makes me want to buck the system. I’m no longer the rebel that I once was. I am, though, still paying for that rebel’s dumbass expenditures.
People, I have noticed lately, say less disparaging things to/about me (at least that I can hear). This is a good thing. But, I’m not sure why at the same time. I have it narrowed down to 3 things I think.
1. They figure that I don’t care and am not going to listen anyway.
2. They fear that I’m going to go batshit crazy at any moment and they don’t want to be the one to push me over the edge.
3. Maybe, just maybe, I’m on the right track and it’s obvious for once.
Spring brings out the wanderer in me, but not as much as fall. Spring makes me want to seek out new places to live and new things to do. I’m too chicken to go anywhere or do anything different though. I guess I always have been to some degree. I feel like I’m under The Man’s thumb and am not quite sure how to break that mode of thinking.
In 1992, I had one of the best spring seasons that I can remember. Everything just seemed to click. And, riding that euphoria into the summer, I promptly screwed up big time. There’s a pattern here. Trust me.
I’m glad I went to college and remember the best part of it fondly. Sometimes I feel like I should push myself to use it more.
I’m incredibly bored at work. Can you tell?
Don't forget to go buy
this.
