How the hell did this PMS make it across the freakin border? No photo i.d., no birth certificate, no documentation of any kind from a recognized governmental authority. It must have stowed away in one of the boxes I packed, counting the days. It wrapped itself up in a migraine headache for safe keeping. You know what I just realized don't you, there were twoof them in that box. The other one is hiding around here somewhere, waiting with gleeful anticipation for the clock to strike mid-April.
The sun has finally set on what I hope is March's nadir. Because really, if tomorrow is worse, I may kick the dog.
PS. Strike anywhere matches are amazing. They will ignite if simply left, with say 100 boxmates, on top of a wood burning stove.
I am adventurer. There is so much I want to know, do, see, enjoy. My box of "yet to have adventures" is full and they are pushing hard and insistently to make it to the light of day. Adventurers are constantly faced with "Should I stay or should I go?" I am at the crossroads once again and as often happens, there are haunting considerations. They know who they are.
No comments:
Post a Comment