Too late to be saved? Too late to eke out that one more day of vacation? Too late to think about bandaging old wounds? Too late for Tuesday? I'm pretty much answer-less today. Too (mentally) tired to even put any effort into forming the questions with clarity today. We are leaving for a camping trip this Thursday. It will be the first time I've gone tent camping in probably five years and the first time with Justin and Shawn. My wife is not outdoorsy in the least bit, but I think even she is looking forward to escaping the cacophony of the city for four nights, and having the possibility of some quality reading time. Even though the past week has been anything but bliss (a bucket of piss maybe), I'm starting to look forward to this getaway. I'm realizing how much I need this getaway. This mass of cells known as Marky B. used to stroll through the woods on a daily basis as a method of releasing the stresses of the world that had built up inside his mushy brain. I (this Marky B. guy) originally had my eyes set on the wilds of Alaska when I moved west. I had visions of chillin' (literally and figuratively) in a cabin in the woods - minus the flesh eating zombies, of course. Four days, camped by the crux of two streams at the base of the Cascade Mountains, is the least I can do for myself, after a continual string of days on the pavement.
The day is just beginning for me on this Tuesday in August. My shift at the bookstore starts at 2pm. The main advantage of this shift is that the boss(es) are gone by 6:30 at the latest. Then I can take off my pants and relax. (Kidding!) Today I'll probably start out a little early and eat at Vios, the bookstore cafe. The food is decent and I get half off. Then I might head down to my semi-shady seat behind the neighboring church. It's not as pleasant as it has been in the past, because a neighbor, whom I'll just call The Dragon Lady, as been somewhat stalking me. I think she suspects me of nefarious deeds behind the church, burning babies or something. The worst that I do back there, by anybody's standards, is to burn some leaves in a pipe and make a meager attempt to smooth out these occasionally rough work days.
So, the sun is shining. My honey and I are on the mend. (I think it's safe to say that.) We're back to mainly just being annoyed with everyone else in the world and feeling safe in each others' arms. Life is hard for a human being. We have these mental events called memories and this amazing electro-chemical tool called a consciousness that brings these memories back into the limelight, so that we can edit them, hang on to them and generally allow these unreliable memories cause havoc in our present moments. The mouse under the shadow of the hawk has less worries.