All this thankfulness is getting out of control. Fuck off already
You probably can’t hear my eyes rolling, but they are, and it’s because of all the emails I’m getting from retailers telling me how thankful they are. For me. Like OMG. Fuck the fuck off
It’s okay. Things are fine. I just gave myself a do-it-yourself lobotomy which I know isn’t funny, and it’s also a lie, because all I did was take Daisy for a walk but it’s breezy and warmish and still early enough so that I can slink into work not very late.
I used to live in the mountains, which sounds much more romantic than the truth which is I used to live near the mountains, but in any case right now the sky is hard blue and the clouds with all their edges and shapes of grey are coming up from all sides, and back I go.
I’m writing this on the GO train now, on my phone, with one finger, which sometimes is the perfect way to write, like now, because I’m dreamy, and slow typing catches things that might otherwise slip away
Finished my story this morning and I can feel the levity coming back because when you’re making up things that are decidedly unlevityish, fuck off spellcheck, those nice little bubbles in your chest just don’t bubble if you know what I mean so today, I’m thankful for the bubbles.
Which sounds sappy I know but at least it’s genuine – and I’m talking to you here, retailers
Lovely walks today, the Daisy one and the to-the-train one. Nice when I don’t have to sprint especially considering the sleeveless turtleneck which is a rare bird, appropriate maybe two days a year, and I’m not sure today is one of them. But I have to force it because otherwise I’ll never get a chance to wear them all. At last count I have one in every primary colour, three blacks, a purple, and a white. Today’s is black and since there are spares in my closet or elsewhere, I may have to hack it into a scoop neck by day’s end especially since I am having a patio lunch today, you know, in the sun, with Alfred, another rare bird. BTW I’m going to have the breaded cauliflower and dill pickles, which is what I had with Marie, the original rare bird, when we zipped through the Ex in the summer which feels like just yesterday.
But I am thankful for all the rare birds in my life, those who swoop in and out, and those who are here for good
Happy (Canadian) Thanksgiving everyone. Enjoy every second and every word and every bite.