So often we tell ourselves to live in the moment, or seize the day, or be present, or rest in the now. But what does that all mean?
I attribute my low maintenance, self-motivation, amiable attitude, and ability to work eighty-hour workweeks to my philosophy of not minding anything.
I feel sort of like Cinderella using every available moment to frantically clean up my life so that I might finally get what I want, except I have no animals, no magic, and no shoes made of glass (thank god).
Perhaps the trick isn’t finding the perfect place, the perfect pen, the perfect aesthetic, the correct combination of elbow patches, pipe smoke, and whiskey. Perhaps the trick is simply to not have a trick.
One thing about people close to you: they know just what to say. I am haunted by what she told me when we broke up.
It frustrates me to hear people complain that they feel like they’re choosing between two evils or that they’ll just stay home on Election Day or that they’ll pack up and move to Canada if things don’t go their way.
ENTER: EVERYTHING THAT IS WRONG WITH THE WORLD AND ME. Some might call the cut and color of her clothes bold and loud, while others might use the word “garish.”
I drag around furniture, scramble on top of kitchen counters. I dust, I sweep, I wipe. I also bleach and mop, neaten, vacuum, air, fluff, and polish.
Reaching through the grated door, I run a fingertip along the tiny white foreleg of a tiny white lamb curled on the straw inside. He slid into the world less than a week ago beside his glossy black sister.