Do you believe in fairies? Pixies? Little glowing, winged things? I do. One just brought me back my mojo. It was a boy one, too. I never knew they could be anything but female but alas, my mind has been yet again expanded. I try to visualize the boundaries of my brain actually getting bigger to avoid this very thing, being closed off to possibilities. I haven’t stretched it quite far enough I guess. Or maybe the problem is that I assume it has boundaries in the first place. Maybe I’ll just cut them off all together. You know, think outside the bun? Now where is my boundary-disappearing-powder…?
I was driving along, well, a road as a matter of fact, and a truck on the opposite side of the divided highway flashed his brights at me as a warning to the upcoming speed trap where a cop was hiding – and very well might I add because I didn’t see him until I had almost passed him. Now I’m one of those drivers that, upon arriving at my destination, can’t for the life of me remember actually driving there. Although I don’t speed, I’m probably just as much a menace because of how slow I’m going. I think I walk the same way, slowly, with my head in the clouds. So anyway, I got to thinking…it’s nice to look out for one another, stranger or fairy or what-have-you. We’re all just doing our best, trying to make it with what we’ve been handed, fighting our own battles. I wouldn’t have gotten a ticket but the passer-by did save my heart rate from escalating which happens any time I see a cop, even when I’m doing nothing wrong, braking no laws, that I’m aware of at least. (It’s a wonder some of them are high on power because people like me fret at the simple sight of them. Unless of course I was stuck in a burning building or something in which case it would be lovely to see them.) So thanks sir-passer-by-er. The next time I’m in line at the checkout with a cart full of groceries, I’ll let the person behind me with a few simple items go first. I got your back if you got mine. You dig?
I’ve got weed on my mind. Not the extracurricular activity, the actual ones that grow in the ground. There needs to be population control in our front yard, stat. There are these green ones (I know, green, right?) that have itty bitty leaves on them and make my hands super sticky. They sort of act like vines and creep out onto and into all its neighbor friends and hold on for dear life. The good news is that if I was able to get the main root out, a big chunk of it is gone, just like that. Poof! So it got me thinking, aside from the fact that weeds are unwanted and kill the things that are supposed to be growing where they are growing, we’re kind of like weeds ourselves. Reaching out, holding hands, keeping everyone afloat, reproducing, (insert cheesy elevator music here). And the reason we need to look out for each other is that, at a moments notice, we could be poof-ed ourselves. Poof! Except that exclamation isn’t a good one like the aforementioned. It’s a mean one with brows furrowed and a growly under-dot.
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