— Franz Kafka, Diaries
Source: themetapicture.com (thank you Susan)
It’s difficult to understand how an innocuous glance out the window could start a cascade of nonsense. But, it did. And it does.
It’s Tuesday. I’m home on a late evening conference call. I see him through the window in the backyard. He’s chubby-cheeked, hanging upside down, and clutching the iron cover of the bird feeder.
My call continued. And so did Chubby-Cheeks. The bird feeder is swinging from the pole. He’s shaking the cr*p out of it. And gorging on prime seed intended for goldfinches. Had I been outside and not two floors up, I would have run the S.O.B. down.
My call continued. I watched him. And wondered how this creature could manage to raise my ire. This man, a college educated adult, 210 pounds (and counting) vs. a foot-long squirrel weighing a pound or two. There he was. Blissfully feeding. And I’m clenching a pencil between my teeth, tasting graphite on my tongue.
The call ended. I ran down the stairs and out the door to find that he had vanished. Squirrel 483. DK: O.
Fast forward to Wednesday morning. I’m heading out the door to walk to the train station.
There he was to my right. Staring at me from the base of the evergreen tree in the front yard. Beady eyes. His under carriage dragging on the grass, belly bursting from the bird seed. [Read more…]
It’s going to be a long week…
You wake up and body parts are functioning.
Turn the key in the ignition and all systems are go.
Until they don’t.
Two eyes on Sunday.
1.5 on Monday.
Painfully nagging recurring eye disorder. Detailed here.
Blurred vision. Tear ducts flowing.
Nasal passages oozing goop.
Nausea rolling tummy.
Hip bone connected to the thigh bone.
Thigh bone connected to every bloody thing.
And as for Helen Fielding in Bridget Jones’s Diary and for me:
Once get on tack of thinking about aging there is no escape. Life suddenly seems like a holiday where, halfway through, everything starts accelerating to the end.
“Boy, that accelerated quickly.”
Which led me to thinking about Einstein and miracles.
I’m driving from the office to the Ophthalmologist.
And those of you scolding me about driving with impaired vision, one of my working eyes is better than most of the maniacs with two working eyes on the road today. So relax… [Read more…]
My special talents include:
jumping to the worst conclusion possible
and worrying about that thing for hours.
Jack Nicholson, “As Good as It Gets” (James L. Brooks, 1997).
Source: Nini Poppins