I can't remember feeling this way before, unless it was maybe when I was 19, and it's hard to remember back that far. Of course I've had many happy moments since then, but they were either etched with a numbing drill, or fraught with ephemerality, unsurety. Regarding the former type, I have little emotional memory of the time after I was married and before I started getting really sick. I know I was calm and relieved and happy in the way that one who gets an analgesic and can finally sleep is happy, but I recall those times through a bit of a fog, the fog in which I guess I existed then. A pleasant fog, like when cool heavy rain falls on hot pavement down by the river in Tremont. But a fog nevertheless.
Regarding the latter type, it is well known that I hate people who make me uncertain. Hate hate hate. I hope you see the damage that you do. Nuff sed.
I'll take my spontaneity in measured doses, thank you.
yesterday I actually remembered that Wayback when I was first married I used to collect these little guys for a while. And I was like geez, yeah, I used to be into that, I backburnered it...I mean, I have a big binder of all the retired pieces and past catalogs downstairs, and a bunch of the pieces in my drawer waiting for me to refinish a shelf or get a display cabinet ready, and yet, it didn't register somehow. Every time I saw that stuff I was like, I'll get to that some other day, some other year, some other life, I'm busy. It was good to have a minute to think about it again. I like those happy little mice.