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Inscrutable

I can’t help but think that because of all the new discoveries that get reported on a daily basis, on any given day on any given moment I am doing something wrong, living my life wrong. It’s like some hypochondriac paranoia, if such a thing actually exists. Like we’re not supposed to shower every day. Or how your cat can pass a disease to you so you shouldn’t put your face so close to it. Or how about the one about how you shouldn’t eat chicken breasts with veins in them. o.O For better or worse, the choices we make define us. It just seems nowadays it’s getting harder and harder to know how to make the right choices. Because of this there are some days I really just want to throw my hands up in the air and let these new discoveries win. If I think too much on them, I’ll paralyze my day and not move forward in anything. It’s like that time in seventh grade science class when we had to pair up and try to draw something on a piece of paper by looking through a mirror at the reflection of the piece of paper. I was doing fine until my pen felt like it hit a wall and all of a sudden I couldn’t move it further back and I was scribbling back and forth until the lines all scribbled together and the picture didn’t look like anything.

0

We’ve forgotten who we are. We’ve forgotten where we come from. We’ve forgotten what makes us US. That’s why all this messy stuff is happening. And it’s sad, but it’s also something that will happen over and over again. You can’t make everyone happy no matter how hard you try. Humans are complicated. Trying to herd them is like trying to herd cats. Yet we are not cats. Duh. Except it feels like only cats get the ‘duh’ part.

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when i lose myself

I really need a Dyson vacuum cleaner. If only to remember the one who told me about it. It was at work one day when I was talking about the hairs in my carpet. “This will solve your problem,” she said. And that’s all she needed to say to get my attention. I went to Target the following weekend to check it out and realized it would set me back more than I had to spare, more than I was willing to give. But that’s why I really need it now. To know I can set myself back $500 and it will be an investment, not a dent in my wallet. I need something that will carefully pick up every mistake I have ever made and suck it into oblivion. I will think of her every time it wipes my slate clean. And Anne as well with the carrot-colored hair. For a slate that ended up on Gilbert Blythe’s head. Maybe I’ll find a lost earring or two in the carpet. They are my Lost Boys. Once I get them paired up again, I’ll go fetch Wendy. If a Dyson can do that, it is worth every penny.