So, I was met with an obstacle today: what to do when I feel like writing something down but have nothing to say? It was a battle between my desire and the bald face of reality, and as is usual, I just went ahead with what I desired. This tactic does not in any way guarantee happiness for anyone involved at the best of times, and folks, today is not the best of times for this little cranny of the Intarweb. Today's entry is exactly what the title states it will be. As much as I tried to come up with something a little more creative or thoughtful, I simply could not. As Jay said to me on Friday night, my entries have been showing off my manic-depressive side lately, and so in an attempt to avoid that kind of content for at least one entry, I give you what I will today:
I got up and watched the film "Badlands", which is one of my favourite movies of all time. Sissy Spacek and Martin Sheen are ridiculously young in this film, but then, the film is thirty-two years old. After watching the movie, I opened my blinds and was greeted with what can only described as soul-lifting.
Holy freaking hell, is the weather beautiful today. The last weekend awaiting the Fiery One's return is often the hardest. It should be the easiest, because his arrival is imminent, but it is definitely most often of the long-dark-teatime-of-the-soul variety. The weather obviously plays a major role in this, because with the sun out and my jacket unbuttoned and my camera by my side today, the slug side of me rolled over and called uncle.
I tend to be a fast walker, but when I walked to the grocery store for bird seed, I walked as slowly as I could, skirting the puddles (puddles!). I didn't take melting into account when I chose my footwear, so my old standby and much-loved boots let bits of water in, but even that felt good. Cold rivulets of water sneaking into the spaces under my toes without feeling icy was a brilliant surprise.
A button came off my coat, but it didn't matter, because it was warm enough to leave it open. The warmth was doubleplus good, because this was my second button to fall off this week, and I've been too lazy to sew. I have even been carrying a needle and yellow thread around in my backpack in case the urge hit when I was away from home, but no dice.
A little boy accidentally grabbed my hand instead of his father's while I was passing them on the sidewalk. He was quite happy for several seconds, and so was I, until he looked up to say something and realized how much I was not his father. I smiled down at him, though, and then he skipped away quite happily, making sure to land squarely in the middle of each little pool of slush.
At the grocery store, I bumped into some friends who were buying a basketful of sweets to sate their cravings. They were so smiley. Smiles from other people are like P@xil. It stopped my social anxiety dead in its tracks, and I found myself grinning back. Also, I had the moral high road. They had pecan pie and whipped cream in their basket, and I had yogurt, fruit cups, and bird seed in mine. (Not that I should be all high and mighty, being the pizza and take-out chinese food girl that I am).
At the check-out, the lady who was bagging my groceries was happy in a completely unbalanced sort of way, but even her mood was a little contagious when I overlooked her glazed eyes. When she saw that I was buying bird seed, she went on at great length about how she couldn't sleep this morning and ended up watching some cheezy movie on television about a young girl who raised Canada Geese from hatchlings and then taught them to migrate. I told the woman that this movie actually grew out of a true story, and she exclaimed "oh, isn't life just wonderful sometimes!" Uhm, yeah, sure. My day may have been moving along quite nicely and happily, but lady, you couldn't sleep and then watched a bad family movie in the wee morning hours and now you're bagging groceries with about twenty tacky little plastic clips in your hair and you have to be at least thirty-five. Come on.
Sunny mood or not, I still can handle only so much, people.
Photo by Patrick Hinley
More by R. T. Smith
Read Time Goes By.
I'm liking Oblivio.
Erasing.org is quite good, too.