Sometimes It's Pretty Preposterous

Just taking the recycling out a few minutes ago, I was noticing that the landlord is finally, after eight months of promises, rebuilding the trash enclosure - a simple wooden fence with a gate about ten feet on a side. I noticed the nice new latch that wouldn't fall off and threaten splinters, and that the door was no longer hanging dangerously off of one hinge. A few seconds later, I noticed the sound of the door slamming shut as a gust of wind came to brighten my day. When I turned around, I noticed that I was trapped inside because the landlord did not install one of the nifty latches that has a handle for people on the inside.

The next thing that I noticed was that they had only rebuilt the gate side and that the other three walls were still falling apart, full of splinters and rusty nails. (Terrific.) I can't remember when I got my last tetanus shot, so I tried out several L-shaped twigs to get the latch open, but ones that were small enough to fit through the opening between the doors were too weak to pull up on the latch without breaking. (Terrific!) Once I had four or five fly bites, I decided to take a chance on not twisting an ankle or getting a rusty nail injection or a gnarly under-the-nail splinter and I managed to climb out.

To cheer myself up, I went to get my mail from the porch. As I pulled it out, a cute small envelope fell out of the pile of junk mail. I thought, 'Yay! A card!' But when I turned it over, I saw "RETURNED TO SENDER" scribbled across it - my thank you note that I sent the day of my job interview last week. TEEEE-riffic. There was also a sticker across the address where someone wrote "NOT AT USGS," where of course I was not sending the card in the first place. I had interviewed with an entirely different government agency. Now the man thinks I am not a thank-you-note-sending candidate. Today, I am life's chump.

At least there's always tomorrow.

Because There Never Seems to be Enough Time, but That's Okay

Do you ever feel like there are so many amazing things in this world that you have to start as many of them as you can as soon as possible or else you'll run out of time? I do. I realize that this is the nature of life: that everybody eventually runs out of time to do all the things there are to do. Still, I like the sense of urgency that hinges on the hope that I might get to do it all if I just hurry.

In Conclusion, To Hell With Your Conclusion!, or I Sometimes Have My Reasons

I hate reading conclusions. I always believed that I was just too clever and lazy for my own good when I didn't finish my reading assignments for class. I consistently did this through all the years of my study (that I can remember) and to this day find myself trailing off and putting a book down rather than finishing it and feeling that sense of accomplishment that I hear others express at the completion of some reading assignment.

Frankly, I prefer to develop my own conclusions. The nearer I get to the end of an article or paper, the more inclined I am to start skimming. I often start formulating my own ideas and watch off-shoots of these ideas apply themselves to my life and my view of the world as I follow my imagination around the uncharted (or partially uncharted) 3-D space of my neural pathways rather than continuing to forge new pathways by "paying attention" to the words I read. It's like I get pissed as I approach the end and sense that the author is trying to tell me what to make of the facts or ideas he has just presented. Habitually, I give that author (okay, all non-fiction authors) the metaphorical finger, turning the pages with increasing speed until I'm irritated enough to toss the pages on the counter and grab a bowl of ice cream to nurse while I watch episodes of TNG (my two favorite things to do while I'm busy writing to the hard disk).



Like how this entry is autological?