The other day I went to the pet store. I needed to get treats and poop bags. In one end and out the other. 120 poop bags – that’s almost two months’ worth of shit that I’ve committed to picking up. The cashier was new and wasn’t sure how to exit the current register screen…
Category: Dear Diary
On the Quiet Shores of Melancholy
This morning I woke up from a dream feeling sad. A lot of the details escape me (duh, it was a dream), but the feeling lingered and left me a little slow and dazed. In the dream, I was friends with, and maybe dating, a very pretty and elegant woman (who might have looked like…
Thoughts, Coincidence, and My Brain
The rain started just after the dog and I finished our walk (fortuitous – this usually plays out the other way around). I’ve never been one to believe in fate or divine timing – I suppose I’ve always just thought of coincidence as coincidence. Though like most people, I find many instances to pause and…
Drivel
So concludes another week. Fall is here in its various manifestations – weather, twinge of melancholy, and officially in a calendar sense. It’s 44 degrees this morning – I’m not ready for the colder, darker days ahead. I’m not sure I have much to say here in this space today – though I seldom do…
New Year, New Look
A reasonable question might be how does one celebrate a TurtleSloth birthday? And reasonable follow-up questions might be, is it the turtle’s birthday, the sloth’s birthday, or both? The answer to the first question is, with great irreverence, of course. As for which came first the turtle or the sloth… does it really matter so…
Wanting to Be Missed (Part Two), Except Not Really
I love you for shattering.Someone has to. -Dean Young Six new books of poetry arrived yesterday. This morning, with a steady rain tickling the leaves outside, I sat by an open window and started in on Bender: New & Selected Poems by Dean Young. A few weeks ago Young passed away. I had never read…
Part Three?
I didn’t sleep well. This is nothing new. I woke up at 2-ish and again at 4. I had to force myself back to sleep at 4. I then had a dream about an ex. We had reconnected and were trying again, but had already fallen into the same pattern / trap that was problematic…
Morning Jetsam (Part Two)
The coffee maker is a heavy breather. It huffs, it percolates. Its black plastic lid hat bubbles and taps before it lets out a final sigh. The dog rests his heavy head on the top of my foot. He’s bored – waiting to be fed. His breath is warm. He sighs too. I messed up…
Morning Jetsam
“Two waffles and a cup of coffee. that’s what I need to face the day. If I can arm myself with a decent poem or something clever or moving, all the better….” That’s what the narrator in my head was saying as I buttered my waffles and pulled the syrup from the cabinet. I hear…
Empty Doorways in the Afternoon
Well, let’s argue this out, Mr Blank. You, who represent Society, have the right to pay me four hundred francs a month. That’s my market value, for I am an inefficient member of Society, slow in the uptake, uncertain, slightly damaged in the fray, there’s no denying it. So you have the right to pay…
Half of a Saturday
“It is joy to be hidden, and disaster not to be found.” I read that on someone’s twitter feed – I think their therapist said it to them. I’m starting this post a little after 11 on a Saturday night. Themes and subjects escape me. I have draft posts on student debt relief, what it’s…
Something to Think About
With the lights out, the cell phone turned upside-down on the night stand, and my eyes not yet closed, I felt this strange yearning for guidance… it was somewhere between wanting to pray (something I don’t do) and a quiet call into the void. I picked up the phone and typed: Dear god…. In writing…