My memory is a bit dim as far as when and where, but I remember seeing large numbers of benches and tables in a public space, like a park. Every one of the tables was occupied by two people, sitting across from one another, playing checkers or some similar games. Most, maybe all, of the people sitting playing games were elderly. Wherever this took place, I assumed all the people lived in nearby apartments. I wondered what their day-by-day lives were like when they weren’t playing games in the park. Did they read, watch television, sew, do crafts, clean up the apartment, cook, etc.? Or did they have partners or helpmates who did the more strenuous work for them? Had they ever worked? Were they retired? I think this image might have been from a trip I made overseas; maybe in China? Or, I suppose, it could have been somewhere in New York City. I wonder why it’s on my mind this morning? Usually, when such scenes just pop into my head, they are prompts I will use in writing a piece of fiction. We’ll see.
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I look in the mirror and see who I was, not who I am. I see the countless flaws which, like knives, carved away the meat and left me with fat and gristle, molded into the shape that remains. If I can be happy with the fat and gristle, I can be happy with myself.
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There was a time, not so very long ago, that I felt certain I would walk through fire to protect the woman I loved. Now that she is gone, the passion and resolve to do that unimaginable, unthinkable thing is gone, too. Nothing matters as much any more. I do not care as much about anything as I once did.
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1:30. 2:30. 3:45. My third waking was the charm. I got up, shaved, took a shower, got dressed, made the bed, put a load of clothes in the washer, tidied up the kitchen a bit, made coffee, and sat down here to think. It’s 4:59, just seconds away from straight-up 5:00 a.m. And away I go.
With several more episodes of Good Girls under my belt (I’m now into season 2), I went to bed around 10:00. I did not watch news at 5:30, at 6:00, at 10:00; so I am clueless about the situation around the state, the country, and the world. I suspect I would have been awakened had we entered into a nuclear conflict with India, so that prospect doesn’t concern me much at the moment.
I got a haircut yesterday, opting to go to Great Clips in Hot Springs, which I thought would be quick, easy, and cheap. After checking in, I waited twenty minutes in my car before being summoned to enter the building. Apparently, I had gone to another outlet in the chain and had given my cell number; my haircut person (are they known these days as barbers?) examined my record and told me how I wanted my hair cut. I accepted her word for it, not recalling how it might have been cut during another visit to an outlet in the chain long, long ago. When the haircut person had finished, twirling me around to take a look in the mirror, I realized I prefer my hair considerably shorter on the sides. But I opted to accept the finished product, making a mental note to return to my regular barber henceforth. As for cheap, it cost me two dollars more than my regular barber, plus a tip, bumped up to parallel the higher cost of the haircut. But, at least I do not look as shaggy as before, so I have no legitimate complaints.
Before the haircut, I went to Lowe’s, intending to buy some light fixtures to replace the unreliable ones in the crawlspace beneath my house. The visit was a waste of time, inasmuch as the fixtures I had hoped to buy (and previously bought online for another application) were nowhere to be found. I suppose I made the trip to town mostly to get out of the house; it’s so damn much easier and more convenient to order online. I can then have the product either delivered to my house or to my car in the parking lot, avoiding a trip into the store. I’ll order online. But there’s no rush.
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I’ve stopped and started on this post so many times I’m not sure what I’ve written. Between spells of writing, I’ve moved clean clothes from the washer to the dryer and hung the clothes after they dried. I paused to cook and eat the bacon remaining in the refrigerator. I’ve had a glass of tomato juice, jazzed up with a few shakes from the Tabasco Sauce bottle. And I explored the news a bit, since I missed it yesterday. It’s now past time to hang the hummingbird feeders; I took them in early yesterday. After I took them down, I saw a few hummingbirds fly up to the empty space where the feeders had been; I heard their tiny voices curse me for taking their nectar away early. Hummingbird curses are extremely crude; even the Blue Jays in the area find the hummingbird obscenities offensive.
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My mood this morning been swinging like the bob of a pendulum. At the moment, it’s high on the trajectory across its arc. But when it’s low, it seems to slow to a crawl. I think I need to do something to elevate and smooth my mood. I know just the thing! In an ideal world, my mood would always default to the positive. But in this world, the default seems to at the opposite end. I must figure out a way to change my default.
