Schtick in the Mud

947178_360521997383415_1299822664_nMy right eye is noticeably worse and since I’m not used to the diminished vision, it also makes spacial relations difficult. Walking into walls isn’t hard to turn into schtick around others — I’ve been doing that since the eighth grade’s Optic Neuritis. By then, too, I’d already also assigned myself to the church of Chris Farley; he was funny because he was fat, and to an impressionable pre-pube it seemed a viable solution to those awkward years of too much girlhood blossoming.

But see if there’s no one there to be audience for the schtick, I’m faced with aggravating limitations that have no sense of humor. There are options (there are, I swear) around the bored sensuality of hopelessness. Now when my motor skills or eyes are acting out I tend to go on un- okay, usually very- necessary housewife rampages. What I’d done by 12:30pm today:

  • swept in bedroom, emptied trash cans
  • cleaned sink full of recyclable cans/plastic
  • took cleaned recyclables to outside bin


    Thai Me Up! at

  • put away clean/washed dirty dishes
  • made “Crap, Are We Out of Dog Food?” dog food*
  • swept dog food/trash can area
  • swept kitchen and hallway
  • washed/dried load of towels
  • cooked thai-ish dunch
  • showered

294719_598541790178728_749275526_nNow after a mid-afternoon rest I can keep adding to that list… Even though the early afternoon is being a tough little angry midget these days, I feel vindicated by the above bulleted list. That there is always something, however, that still needs doing is a time-trusted reality; right now that something is just a series of contented shrugs under the broad classification of “Saturday Night.”

“I’m bored’ is a useless thing to say. I mean, you live in a great, big, vast world that you’ve seen none percent of. Even the inside of your own mind is endless, it goes on forever, inwardly, do you understand? The fact that you’re alive is amazing, so you don’t get to say ‘I’m bored.” – Louis C.K.

So what wonders will tonight hold? Maybe an evening walk with the dogs, maybe cleaning out that spare bedroom, maybe futzing around in the kitchen, maybe futzing around with art, maybe watching a movie… I’d say the possibilities are endless, but they’re really quite finite. Unless we find out suddenly that the Mayans were right and things get really finite.

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* “Crap, Are We Out of Dog Food?”* dog food is what gets pulled together to best emulate their usual nightly bites. Instead of ground turkey I substituted just cooking the rice in chicken broth, and that went with some cooked barley and a handful of frozen mixed vegetables.

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