I think I might have solved the beer can mystery. It appears that some person driving a dark blue Kia (sex unknown, couldn’t make it out from where I was spying) eats lunch under our overhang. He or she then proceeds to throw all of his or her trash (including a beer can and an empty pack of cigarettes) out of his or her car window before driving away. All this with music pumping.
Right now as I type with a glass of red wine close at hand, it all seems very funny. Here I was personalizing the whole thing. Ha, ha, ha. I had written my obituary, sold off all my prized possessions and was spending quality time with my loved ones…you know, trying to do my last days right…before the beer can murderer ate me for dinner.
A little bit over the top? Tell that to my overactive imagination. Plus Riverside gets very dark at night. Plus I spend ten hours a day with a 2 month old. I have mashed potatoes for brains. Everything is very fuzzy. Simon’s always asking me if we can separate the issues. Deal with each troubling thing that threatens to overwhelm separately and logically. I have to inform him EVERY TIME that the issues cannot be separated. Everything is deeply intertwined and very, very messy.
But I digress.
So yes, I seriously thought the beer can had been specifically placed for my specific irritation (our three consecutive flat tires had seemed like further compelling evidence, but what do I know?). I also doodle my own name endlessly when I’m talking on the phone. Apparently it’s all about me. Does anyone know a good therapist? I’m thinking more and more that I’m a candidate for professional guidance!
You might be too if you didn’t have any furniture. We are selling everything on Craig’s List as we prepare to move back to Toronto, and well, my life is in shambles. I have no kitchen table and someone’s about to take my bed for a mere seventy-five dollars. That can’t be worth it. If my blogs seem a little angry in the next few weeks, you’ll have to forgive me. Know that I spent the last month cosying up to Simon on a yoga mat.
5 Comments
Hey that is cool about the beer can — so we can keep trusting that there is more good in the world than evil! Hooray! I knew it!
everything is indeed deeply intertwined!
love you so much. cant wait to see you. sometime. soon. xoxo
Curling up on a yoga mat could sound romantic from a distance…perhaps not up close and personal? Is that what your imminent anger suggests? I will pray laughter into your life for the next bit, to counter the Craig’s List low budget sales.
xoxo
maybe you guys could do your downward dogs or pigeon stances before bed, work out the anxiety, help you sleep. Ever think of that? There is a sunny side to the street after all.
Thanks for the suggestion, Steve. We’ll put our yoga moves to the test…
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