I need to push today's thoughts out quickly. My whole mind and body are threatening a complete shutdown. This afternoon was so stressful, and the evening that followed such a calming relief, that it has left me on the verge of a fast, deep sleep. I got it stuck in my head today that I couldn't wait another moment without buying my copy of Frozen, and I was determined to buy it and to convince my dinner guest that we were going to watch it while we ate. Naturally I waited until rush hour to go out and buy groceries and look for the movie. And of course the first store I tried was sold out of the movie. I ended up stuck in traffic, driving thirty-five minutes to a different store, cursing every other driver and begging for bloody cosmic revenge on their slow-driving souls, just so I could avoid going to Walmart. I acquired my prize, picked up my friend, and celebrated her agreement to watch my movie with a tall rum and coke for each of us. The blistering notes of Let It Go are still echoing in my head, and my road rage is faded now. I think it was worth it.
I came upon Athena flipping a toy around the piano room carpet today, and thought how cute she was... Until I realized that her toy was not one I had bought for her. It was yet another lizard, and it lay on its back, looking quite limp and dead. So I chased her off of it, and grabbed a couple paper towels to grab it and chuck it in the trash. I just don't know where they all come from. As I swept the kitchen floor, I found yet another disembodied tail, the second one of those in a week. I didn't try to match up the tail to the lizard body. They didn't seem to fit. An hour or so later, I stuck my hand under the trash can lid to throw away a handful of junk, and was quite startled to realize that my dead lizard was now entirely alive, and back to bright green, as he clung to the trash bag, pondering escape. I don't know why this one seemed to be a more difficult prospect than the last few I rescued or removed. Maybe it was his zombie status that made him seem scarier. I was quite freaked out by him, and it wasn't until two hours later, when my dinner guest arrived, that he was finally transported, still alive and wiggling in her hands, to under one of the crepe myrtles. He bounded off through the grass. I hope he doesn't go right back onto the cat side of the fence.
I had a lot of opportunities to brush up against my favorite time in the past again today. I don't know what it is about the late 70s, but they rarely leave me alone for long. Just a few guitar chords into a song, and there I was, back in my bedroom in Oklahoma, with my television on oh, so quietly, so my parents didn't know that I had stayed up late to watch Saturday Night Live yet again. I was quite taken with Bruce Cockburn's appearance on the show, and I remember doing a sketch of him playing guitar and singing from that night. I was significantly proud of that drawing, and I was convinced that it was an accurate likeness. I had several chances to dance in and around the memories of those years tonight. I still don't know why they are so much stronger than all the others, nor why they visit me so much more often. I hope they keep doing it forever. I would miss them so much if they were gone.
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