I was so tired yesterday. My eyes burned every open moment and my head was filled with thick thoughts that I couldn’t shake. It was filled with those things I usually put behind opaque walls, yesterday I woke up before the walls were put back up and so the day was tainted with insecurities and unforgiving what ifs. I think I’m better today.
I crawled home at 5:30 and walked into an apartment filled with dinner smells. Toby made polenta last night. He made it from scratch. It was the yummiest meal. He made garlic bread as well. We ate and talked. I did the dishes and then built a nest in front of the TV. I was asleep before The West Wing. What a long day.
I woke up to Toby convincing me to go into the bedroom where I’d be more comfortable. Once in the bedroom, I couldn’t fall back to sleep. Seems when one follows up a bad day with an early shut down and the sleep is interrupted before sunrise, they wake up an adolescent. I yammered on songs and made fun of Toby for whatever goofy reasons I could come up with. There is a line in the book I am reading. It sat with me all day. It bugged me all day. I found it so unsettling and freakishly weird I asked Toby about it that evening, he tried to explain what it could mean and still it bugs me so. And so, if you can’t beat it, sing songs about it. And he covered my mouth to shut me up. Apparently, I’m not always mature enough to handle Jeffrey Eugenides’ strong, descriptive abilities because this line hit my adult conscience and set me off running into 13 again. (Oh, maturity, where are you?) I don’t remember much after the news; Hell, beneath my singing and joking, I don’t remember much of the news. But I fell asleep again. And now, here I am.
When he removed his underwear, the lifeboat filled with a mushroomy smell.
…having a day just like that today..great dinner with good wine with old friends the nite b4 might be to blame….sans mushroomy smells thank goodness…
You nailed that one, arjen. There are emotions that come with hanging out with old friends that if you’re not in one of your strongest moods, it could really just set you off into a pit of depression.
Getting older is sort of sad. That is one thing I realized recently.
Getting older is not sad. It’s the alternative that sucks!
I agree with scbob. The older I get, the more adjusted and content I am. I wouldn’t want to be “young” again for a million bucks.
Well, maybe a million bucks.
I think I’m just reminded of how I used to be, what I used to wish for and where I actually am. So perhaps it’s not getting older, but more the idea of what I haven’t done with all this time.
Dude, it’s not like you’re 85 years old. I mean, really. You’re still a baby.
It’s all relative.
I’m comparing me to me. And me ain’t where me wanted to be when me was younger.
I’s changing to get me back on track. It’s ok. Even I knows that. hehe
I did the dishes, little one.
I did some of them. And you know mister.
I did some of them. And you know it, mister.
I wanted to be a world cup soccer star or the shortstop for the NY Yankees (damn you Derek Jeter! Damn YOU!!).
I’m pretty sure “the man” has kept me from achieving those goals.
Of course, my main goal was to fine a wonderful, caring wife who will head home early tonight and make me a banana caramel cake. And snickerdoodles.
(I know you’re reading this. I also want a Chicken Pot Pie!)
..yeah on the one hand: who doesn’t want to stay young and beautiful for ever…on the other hand… I would hate to have to learn everything I learned all over again…. you know.
ps. I dont do the dishes.. I want to enjoy this awesome power untill I move in with my gilfriend again who will not tolerate it…I do the dishes ONCE A WEEK….aah the sweet smell of freedom…
PPS…come to think of it last weeks dishes had kind of a mushroomy smell…
( ! )
ha!
GROSS!
Snickerdoodles just might be enough to get the cats back.
dad, Melissa will make you Snickerdoodles to TAKE two cats.
No cat will ever beat my cats. My cats are the best cats. My cats rule. My cats rule the world. They’re fuzzy. They’re lovey. They’re super-duper.
My cats rule the cat world.
Do I have to mention Sir Winston Fluffalot Churchill Schulte? He’s regal. He’s royal. He’s fluffy.
You just ruined my day with that mushroomy smell business. I can’t get that stupid line out of my head. Blah. Ugh. I expect to get a shipment of snickerdoodles in the mail from you to make up for it.
I’m reading that book also and that sentence has been bothering me for a week now.
Spoiler Alert! Don’t read any further if you plan to read Middlesex.
I warned you.
OK, the contextual information that is missing from the sentence is: it’s their wedding night, they are getting ready to have sex for the first time… and they are brother and sister. The sentence is unnerving enough on its own, but after you know that extra tidbit you’ll wake up in a cold sweat. Great book, though.