Life of Wry

Not only was this the quietest 4th of July I’ve probably ever experienced, it’s also probably the most boring day of the pandemic to date. And maybe that’s because the boring factor is directly proportional to one’s expectation for what this day is supposed to be about. If I said that right.

Anyway. Yawn.

A wee workout, some hammock time (where I might actually have dozed off for a few moments, I’m not sure), some Spider (more than I’d like to admit) and made progress in a new book.. not the one I intended to read today.  (Intended to start Unrigged; instead, took another crack at Little Fires Everywhere.)

And may I go on record to say that reading is disorienting? It is quite disorienting. Especially fiction. Maybe only fiction. It takes me away from my present, away from my center, and I find that a bit destabilizing. It takes my feet out from under me.  Like, who ARE these people, this place, this time period. They’re total strangers in a strange land.  Why do I care about this story?

Weirds me out sometimes.

Maybe my reaction to this whole blah day is exacerbated by how otherworldly our existence is right now. Our lonely little isolated, removed existence. Maybe today felt extra weird because on top of a global pandemic that continues to unnerve the whole world, on top of the fact we’re not doing anything on this holiday (a holiday typically stuffed to the gills with tradition), on top of just feeling blah and bored… our soulless, nutcase of a psycho president (not my president) delivered a pair of speeches over the last two days that were so dark and so desperate it just leaves me feeling wasted and anxious.  Not that I listened. I mean, I can’t. He’s just too ridiculous and disturbing. But I heard and read enough about them. On a national holiday, supposedly a celebration of, you know, our great country (forgive my cynicism), the supposed leader (he’s not a leader) of the country pits us against not a common enemy (that’d be inappropriate enough on what’s supposed to be a giant birthday party of a day) but against each other. His people are good, the rest of us are evil. We, who stand up for civil rights, social and racial justice, inclusion, love.. we’re the enemy, out to take your freedoms away, indoctrinate your children, and god knows what all. Yes he (well, Steven Miller) said all that.  And never mind that while he spewed (and none too smoothly) all that garbage, he flouted all the sensible (essential) measures needed to stem the rapidly increasing transmission of the virus. Of course. The numbing stupidity continues.  Good effing lord. Must we be tortured and so ill-served by this poser all the way until November? That’s FOUR WHOLE MONTHS AWAY!

It’s no wonder I’m feeling so messed up today.

Oh, and I just listened to Paul Simon’s An American Tune. Gut punch.

Dunno. We’ll see how tomorrow goes. Maybe, out from under a holiday, tomorrow won’t be so disappointing. No unmet expectations. And maybe my book will seem like fun, light, escapist fare instead of weirdo strangers imposing on my world. And maybe Trump will STFU for a day.

We shall see.

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Okay. Change of topic and mood. I have a few pics to post of our new coffee table!!  Yes, TWO exclamation points. Thank goodness for Jim. He’s been Mr. One Foot In Front of The Other on this coffee table for weeks and today, put the final touches on it. It will look even more fabulous in its new habitat, but the grout is drying and it must remain perched on sawhorses in the garage for one more night. Tomorrow, she’s carried to her new home, where, in context and surrounded by complementary colors, she’ll really shine. And for sure I’ll post a nice photo and more details on the table making process.

But for now..

Very good way to end the day!