I feel like I've been running down the stairs, carrying a load, so I can't see well. And I know the stairs are about to end and I think its the last stair, and as I take the last stair, I realize I misjudged the distance and it was just too much. Now I am off balance. I landed hard, I can't get my bearings. My feet want to go back and try it again, but it is too late. The distance was covered. The only thing to do is to keep going and wait for my gait to even out. But my body remembers the misstep and every other step after is off kilter. Like I've forgotten how to walk.
They say growing old gets easier. I don't know about that, but I've been on grey hair watch for months and now I am starting to wonder if I should've been looking for a humpback too, because my posture is terrible. And my flossing habits are akin to a demented stamp collector. When memory beckons, I answer the call vigorously. flossing until I realize I've been staring at my reflection for hours, my arms so very tired. But who really collects stamps anymore?
And some days it is just so hard to get out of bed.
Life might be easier if I didn't feel like I moved through it on a conveyor belt.
Last week I was shopping in one of those funky shops on Hawthorne and I came across a shadowbox filled with little miniature birds. The birds were hopping around with the faces towards the ground. Look up! Look up! Watch where you are going. I wanted to call to them, these clay figures trapped forever in a glass box. But hours later, when I was drinking my tenth cup of coffee and watching the rain fall, I realized the birds were eating.
They say growing old gets easier. I don't know about that, but I've been on grey hair watch for months and now I am starting to wonder if I should've been looking for a humpback too, because my posture is terrible. And my flossing habits are akin to a demented stamp collector. When memory beckons, I answer the call vigorously. flossing until I realize I've been staring at my reflection for hours, my arms so very tired. But who really collects stamps anymore?
And some days it is just so hard to get out of bed.
Life might be easier if I didn't feel like I moved through it on a conveyor belt.
Last week I was shopping in one of those funky shops on Hawthorne and I came across a shadowbox filled with little miniature birds. The birds were hopping around with the faces towards the ground. Look up! Look up! Watch where you are going. I wanted to call to them, these clay figures trapped forever in a glass box. But hours later, when I was drinking my tenth cup of coffee and watching the rain fall, I realized the birds were eating.
I don't what love is. I just do as I'm told.
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