swish

Writing in my blog when I have nothing in mind can be a bit dangerous.  Not in a literal sense, like texting and (fill in the blank of most activities, except sitting down).  Just dangerous in the sense that I will wander through my thoughts and drag you poor people with me.  For instance:

• I realized that I am finally used to, and enjoy, the cool, foggy summer mornings here.  Notice that reads mornings, not all damn day.
• I noticed a ding in the front/side bumper of my new car yesterday.  I didn't even realize that had happened. What's newsworthy about that?  I didn't cry.
• I meant to give myself a good talking to (silently) that I wasted a perfectly good 3-day weekend.  (No, we don't get Bastille Day off; I just felt like it.)  Then I realized, I don't care that much. 
• I sometimes experience kairosclerosis but the memory of my 3-year-old self* at the amusement park forces me out of it. My story isn't exactly the same as kairosclerosis, that's really about anticipatory anxiety, but still.  (Such a good argument to make when no one is around, "Yeah, but still.")

Perhaps tomorrow there will be more here to read.  Tonight is writing group.  Keep your expectations low though,  kids.

*You've surely heard this one, right?  I was riding a little kiddie ride at a park adjacent to the Sacramento Zoo.  Just my mom and I were there and she waved at me and smiled as I went by.  It was ride that went around and up and down a little and the "cars" were made to look like fish. A photograph of this scene exists in family albums.)  They even made a swish-swish-swish sound. After the ride, my mom asked me, "How come you weren't smiling?  Was the ride too scary?"  "No," I said.  "I was just thinking about how sad I'm going to be when we leave."  Welcome to the hard-wiring in my brain.