Daily blogging? Mine is not to question…
I’m having the “change everything” urge. Clean my room. Move the living room furniture around. Re-sort all the Legos. Bake something I’ve never baked before. Abandon Facebook forever. Take photographs. Change the wallpaper on my phone. Throw out half my wardrobe. Clean my car. Paint my chipped nails.
I get this urge every so often and it’s usually associated with something hormonal — like a simulated monthly nesting urge before my body realizes there’s nothing to nest for. But this is oddly timed. Maybe it’s a new year’s thing. Maybe it’s a way to cope with the endless days ahead of me.
I spent the morning searching for activities and finally settled on The Franklin Institute, only to find out that it’s closed today, which seems like a cruel decision on their part. Kind, I suppose, for the employees, but… And now nothing else seems appealing. The Who lobbied for a trip to Crayola. I would like a service where you can rent a sibling for a day. A kid who automatically gets along with your kid and who is available for companionship on outings whenever needed. If you ignore the creepiness factor of a warehouse full of children just waiting to be “hired” to play, then it’s a genius idea. Seriously. Parents of only children: think about it. You know I’m onto something.
If I were very wealthy, I’d get on an airplane today and spend a week in Florida, splashing around in the pool with my parents and all the other Jewish seniors.
It’s raining here today and I don’t even mind. Because it’s nearly 2015 and there’s been no snow of note. I probably just jinxed us.
This post is like a brunch buffet. It can’t decide what meal it wants to be. Bacon and eggs right alongside Chicken Cacciatore in the bain-marie. Nothing makes much sense with anything else.
I’m drinking iced coffee. It’s December. Wild Kratts is chain-playing on Netflix in the background and both The Who and I are on our respective laptops, writing. Things could be worse. Things could always be worse.