Thursday, February 9, 2012

Some Days are Like That

Today, words are as hard to salvage as the last few drops of honey from a jar. Some days are like that.

My large, orange tabby cat is resting on my lap, and he is warm. He purrs sweetly, yet his tail beats me with agitation. My cat is schizophrenic. Some cats are like that.

Today, I cannot win a single battle joined with carefully weighed vegetables and perfectly portioned protein and carbohydrates, as is my practice. So, I am eating a bowl of Rice Chex for lunch at 2 P.M. because it seems like the end of the world has come, and vegetables no longer have a hallowed place among men. Let the dishes lie in the sink, like the corpses of forgotten men after a cataclysmic war. Let the laundry I have put on again to fluff sink back into wrinkles like the faces of aged men, hardened by loss.

Tonight I am serving the family tuna fish sandwiches. Some dinners are like that.

Pray, all of you soiled by the ashes of battle, that tomorrow will be a better day.


  1. I read this while I was eating chips and queso from a jar for lunch at 2 PM. Some days are definitely like that. Here's to tomorrow!

    1. Yes, tomorrow is the day when I will breeze through my house scattering motes of pure joy as I dust my son's cruddy desk and wash his winged skull sheets. Tomorrow is the day when I will conquer the nastiness which lurks in the right-most corner of my sink. Tomorrow is a day as brave as lions and sweet as pure corn syrup. I can hardly wait to meet the self I shall be then. :) Until then, Rice Chex and queso it is.

  2. Isn't it nice to be all grown up so you can go tell everything to f**k off now and then?

    1. Yes, it is!!!! I even told the cat to f%^k off after he had beat me with his tail the 546th time. But he just looked at me and meowed that strange, undead demon cat meow of his and looked like an asshole. No one ever listens.


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Faith in Ambiguity by Tara Adams is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License