Sometimes I think I have entirely too much time on my hands and were I to count the extra minutes like pennies from heaven a billionaire I would be. And so it was this morning when I decided to learn everything there is to learn about the NBA, until I realized two very important things: (1) It isn't basketball season, and (2) I am actually a pauper.
The weekend found me in environs unfamiliar, and were I a better person I'd be able to report that I rose to the challenge and triumphed. But the sad truth is I didn't even play the game; instead of tossing my hat into the ring I cowered on the sidelines in silence. I didn't even get drunk effectively.
I don't know what the deal with me is lately; perhaps my impending move has shaken whatever foundation it is upon which I've built myself. Maybe too late I've waited to thin out the seedlings I've sown, and the roots of all that I wish to shed are too entangled to rid. Probably I don't know what the fuck I'm talking about. And truth be told I kind of like it like that, reminds me of when I was a kid and rarely said a word. I've defaulted back into silence in my thirties, not because I don't have anything nice to say, rather the surfeit of panegyrics is certain to make one wonder who exactly inhabits this tiny body of mine.
But yes, a busy bee am I, and though I know this refrain gets bandied about these parts with such frequency as to lose all meaning, sitting here, right now, I feel too much the force of these words' import. 593 miles I'll be driving soon, blown hither and there by the whims of an impersonal government (though with some luck I'll find myself in New Orleans twice in six weeks; perhaps I'll re-find myself there). People and cases are demanding my attention when I must admit my attention isn't worth having, and how do you tell someone to give up, it's not worth it, when that's the very lesson you find impossible to learn yourself? Life is a mystery, and mysterious.
So listen, I lost this pretty big case recently, and though no one's really faulting me I can't help but feel completely pissed off and disillusioned. I mean, I'm busy, you know? And all I seem to be doing in 2009 is wasting my time and spinning my wheels and running, running, running on treadmills (literally) and never getting anywhere (literally). I'm pissed off and I'm not sure how much I want to be doing this any longer. And a whole host of nouns can sub in for that pronoun, nouns like life and law and writing and wishing. And also whining. All's well, never you fear.
I follow four cats and a parrot on Twitter. There is something seriously fucked up about that.
You can't win every case. And losing doesn't necessarily mean you were wrong. Hell, look at Atticus Finch. He was right and he still lost. Scout still liked him, though. That's all that mattered.
ReplyDeleteI agree about the cats/parrot/Twitter/fucked up connection, though.
Did I know that you're moving? That's exciting.
ReplyDeleteSorry about the case. I second Sir's Atticus Finch reference.
sir - sometimes i actually catch myself believing that it really is the cats and parrot twittering. i need help.
ReplyDeletemg! - not quite. but probably bidding on a place right next door. or not. who knows anymore.
Whatever, Dr. Doolittle talked to animals and he was just fine. So, like, following animals on Twitter is mostly the same.
ReplyDeleteLOGIC.
I don't know.
Kat, I'd like to think that it's more about living in the kind of world where making the effort is worth it, even if we can't always win. I'm sure it must be discouraging, but what would we do if you weren't there fighting for us? Seriously, what would we do? Who would be our voice in the wilderness?
ReplyDeleteAs for the rest, well, things change. In the end, that's the only constant. Did you read that someone named a baby after me this week? For real! It's a little scary though, 'cause now I feel like I need to be on my best behavior or I'll screw up that pure, sweet, fresh innocent little person. Thank God he as parents to send him home to!
The funny thing is, Kat, he's going to go through the same things you and I and his parents and, well, every human being has since the dawn of time. I guess not everything changes. In spite of it all, though, we go on.
So will you. And, eventually, this mood, this feeling, will change. It's the only constant.
My sister's dog is on Twitter. This is a fact.
ReplyDeleteI would be happy with half a billion pennies. This is also a fact. Hi kat.
jennie - makes sense to me!
ReplyDeletenetwork geek - no worries, friend. all is well.
peefer - i think winston would have a twitter feed if it would update itself. 'cause i'm certainly not gonna do it for him.