Pending random thoughts...

The grass is always greener. I have the worst case of this sometimes. Things will be better when the sun is shining.. I will do ___ when ___ happens. I will be happier if ___ happens.. I had a lot of this when I was trying to get from Whidbey to Seattle. Once I move to Seattle, I will spend every sunny day __. I will do this__.

If only, if only.

Reality has set in and the folly of man.. And the lack of car. What a mess that is. But even that is an excuse. Everything is an excuse to not live. To be content curling up in my hole for a time just to wait out the "if only's." Certainly don't do this all the time, but when it strikes it hits hard. And is overly exasperating. So.. I have made a list of things I WANT to do. Solid and good things that make it so I'm making good on my promises and making something of myself and my time here.

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Fifteen minutes is all I have, less probably.. But in those minutes I have had grand adventures and terrible heartbreak. I wake feeling energized and buzzed, while other times the weight of what happened still remains, pressing. In either case it is still just as fleeting. Just those overall feelings of grandeur or loss. I just wish I could remember why...

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I have the utmost love for books. This isn't news to anyone. It shouldn't be. But there are books that make an impression. Favorites that imprint themselves onto my very being but I can't help but become attached. I remember being enveloped the the world Robin McKinley created in Beauty, feeling disoriented when I was pulled out of it. It was a totally different kind of loss when my copy was misplaced. There is always a desperate need to replace it to my shelves. I get a rush of excitement to lend out The Book Thief (Zusak) because I know what awaits the reader. The ups and downs. The sadness that you know will be coming, and the desperate need to finish anyway. But for some reason there is nothing quite like the ache I feel when I lend out my copy of Daughter of the Forest by Juliet Marillier. Suddenly, all I want to do is read it. I can't count the times I have gotten lost in Sevenwaters. I think part of it is the actual book. My markings, my cornered pages to mark something significant or that one section to avoid. The yellowed pages from being water logged, but I cant remember why. I wonder if she's finished it yet...

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Things wrong with the house:
potential for front porch rotting
the washing machine that sounds like a rocket taking off into space
the dryer that takes for-ev-er to dry..
the oven that will randomly shut off when your baking and start beeping. F2! it screams!
the overpriced water bill (700+) that is a sure sign of a leak..
but it's got really cheap rent! (besides that damn water bill)

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I walk minding my own business. I plaster on that ticked off expression that I don't normally wear in real life. Off bus and pass Jack in the Box. I note the two haggard bearded men by the train tracks exchange something between hands. They notice my presence and eye me warily. . "Who do we have here..." I hear one murmur towards me as I pass. I wave of slight panic and irritation floods me. I roll my eyes at human idiocy.