I actually have a lot to write about, but it's all here bouncing around in my head. The thoughts are all either incomplete sentences, or they're run-on sentences, or they're even comma spliced.
My state of mind must be pretty bad, to have comma splicing IN MY FRICKIN' MIND.
After all the hating Christmas hoopla, but loving the Christmas bonus, having a babysitter on New Year's and not even having anywhere to go, and then my own inertia compounding upon itself until...
Until my home and my mind seemed to mirror each other. Empty containers, waiting to be disposed. Garbage that's obviously garbage, and garbage that's masquerading as something useful.
Useful things that are broken. And a few useful unbroken things, well hidden.
And the outward appearance items, utilitarian or whimsical, things that keep me warm, laying all over the place. Not being worn. But not put away.
Shit. I hate it when I go insane every spring.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
You'd best hide the steak knives. And the cooking sherry.
Post a Comment