Wholesale

I've a bug infestation in my kitchen. I think I've seen a roach (albeit a small one), some ants, and something about halfway between the two. I reacted with what seems to have become my default response to life's nuissances: resignation laced with a sense of injustice. "I just don't have the mental or emotional resources to be dealing with this right now". Today I finally went shopping and bought some weird cubes of boric something or another that I'm supposed to leave all over the kitchen. The package has this comforting, industrial, DDRish look, which gives me hope. No bright colors, no fancy pictures, just blocks of text, all yellow and black. Because genocide is no laughing matter.

There was another storm today. I don't think we've had a single day without one over the last week. I was walking back home from lunch as the skies darkened and the wind started gathering strength. Always a smell the roses moment for me.

There was this quote... something about life being all the stuff that happens between the noteworthy moments. I think I'm slowly maturing into that school of thought, and it seems that way comfort lies. Barring any paradigm shift (and the only one I can think of is having a kid, so.... yeah) this seems to be the proverbial it. Get a place. Make ends meet. When in doubt - treat yourself to some sour jellybeans. I have a nagging feeling that this realization (or delusion, take your pick) should come as a disapointment, but... not so much. Stuff seems fairly groovy, in a restrained, Canadian anarchist kind of way.

I guess I'm having some sort of not-quite-midlife anti-crisis.