Tuesday, December 21, 2010
There. There's a picture of the bird feeder taken from behind the back door and it's a shitty shot and I'm in a shitty mood so there you go.
Something turned in my heart last night and my half-way decent attitude towards Christmas disappeared and my heart is as small and hard and green as one of the Grinch's boogers today.
Last night I went out to see the moon before I went to bed, knowing that I was NOT going to get up to see the eclipse and I wanted to take a picture of that moon and I could not hold still enough so I got on my back on the cold dirt and I propped my arms on my body and I took that picture you see for the header and damn, I was a little bit proud of it and when Mr. Moon saw it he said, "We have a tripod in the closet."
And isn't that just the way I am about everything?
I make everything harder than it should be and then I realize I'm a moron.
There is a huge bin of wrapping paper here, there are plenty o' gifts to wrap, I need to go back to a store to return something and get it right, I need to get things for stockings, and it's four days before Christmas and you know what I'm about to go do?
Rehearse at Freddy's house.
Yeah, yeah. Christmas. Whatever.
I'm sorry. I apologize. I should try to reach into this green, dried-up booger of a Grinch heart and say something sweet about family and memories or something profound about the solstice or something wise about time and the turning of the seasons or something poetic about the birds at the feeder and the way the sun is shining on this beautiful day or something funny about the chickens but really...no.
A. You have heard it all before.
B. I don't feel like it.
C. I need to get going.
Maybe I'll feel more cheerful later. Maybe my green velvet dog-collar-scrunchie will make me all happy and warm inside. Like hot oatmeal with apples and pecans and cinnamon.
But guess what?
I love you.