Day 2.
After a slight ‘high’ of getting a few emails and messages: “Hey! How do I Follow your Blog?” etc. etc. I feel a panic combo with a side of suburban lull that won’t quit even after 4 K-cups of French Roast.
‘I’m a Blogger’, I say to myself. I really did it.
BFD Christine.
You have 6 loads of laundry to do and 2 bathrooms that could use de-sanitizing. Your 9 year old son is sick and you just got back from the Doctor after a morning of accomplishing close to nothing. Go back to the kitchen to make chicken soup and pour those Goldfish crackers for your son who morphs into a Prince or Maharaj when he’s sick. That’s genetic and not from me.
Oye. So I press on. Day 2. Now what?
When I can’t think or write, poetry is my ‘go-to’ form of expression. It clears out the cobwebs and the brain that gets lazy. All of us can default to laziness. Human nature, I suppose.
- “I’m living a new life with lime trees in the back
- Geckos crawling and winking while 10 ‘Mr. Toads’ say hello at night on the doorstep in their sweet belch-like manner.
- I’m livin’ a new life.
- 4 times a day comes the comfort of that train whistle. Classy and sweet…reminds of wholesome times when people embraced everything but electronics
- When people didn’t get ‘bored’ with simplicity or restless with silence
- When people didn’t lust for everything around them that wasn’t ‘theirs’
- When our appetites were controlled with a sweet peace that made us content not competitive
- Livin’ a new life
- I’m trying”
“Mom!”
“Coming! I’ll get you some more juice.”
Day 2 was terrible. I apologize.
See you tomorrow!
-CN