Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Enneagram Type 9

"I'm not upset with you," she explains as we're turning off the lights to go to bed. "I'm just trying to hate my mornings less, and it's getting late."

I still feel vaguely responsible, though. Sometimes, in the name of having some "alone time," I space out, and crucial hours disappear that should have been spent, say, getting ready for bed.

Monday, July 21, 2014

Power Nut Bar

My boss is talking, but I'm still thinking about what I read on the website: "Please note that the Foundation Center-New York is a nut-free environment."

Like, I can't bring a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich for lunch? The part of me that's a total asshole thinks about the weakling that is so desperately allergic to creation that even just a nut, a single nut, even the dust from the nut, would kill him dead, and suddenly I'm standing over him, gloating in my evil, watching him choke (would I be able to actually watch him, see him turn blue, watch his tongue fill his mouth?), murdering someone with a handful of nuts.

My boss continues to talk while I note on a post-it: "Commit murder with peanut."

Sunday, July 20, 2014

Love Anyways

The child wearing the helmet has interposed himself into yet another family's game of soccer to which he wasn't invited, and his long-suffering father is finally intervening.

"Billy," he calls, but the boy shakes his head, non-verbally defiant. The other family looks awkwardly anywhere else and moves their game away as Billy's father sighs, gets up, and Billy looks upset, poised to run, unable to understand why this is an issue.

"So, do we have some kind of... plan, if our kid is special needs?" she asks as we leave the park.

Typical Night

This game I've been playing, it's basically a "Magic: The Gathering" kind of thing with an "Adventure Time" theme thrown over the top, but for the iPhone.

If you don't know what that last sentence means, congratulations, you aren't a man in his early 40's who does.

On the other hand, as a man in his early 40's who has a fairly good handle on strategy for turn-based fantasy-animation-themed card games, I am killing it in the current tournament.

Katie sits next to me on the couch playing "The Sims" as the theme from "True Detective" wails it's apocalyptic sorrow from speakers of our TV, while outside, the sounds of a Brooklyn night drift through the screened open window - laughing voices, sirens, a garbage truck, an airplane far overhead going away or coming home.

Friday, July 18, 2014

Tone Deaf

"So, have you been on vacation this year?" the server, wife, perhaps, to the owner of the Mexican restaurant, asks. Her homely, pleasant face is open, listening - she's known us for years, indeed, she hardly ever leaves the restaurant, it seems.

"Not in a while," I say, unthinking. "A few months."

Thursday, July 17, 2014

I Have the Touch, Redux

"I see these people, everyday," she says. "I know how they're feeling on a given day, where they like to stand, and I touch them, more than I touch people I know well - even people I live with."

We walk down 7th Avenue towards sundown, laden down with grocery bags full of tonight's dinner, crackers and cheese, seltzer, lemon juice to make lemonade, and I don't answer for a while, to give this thought of hers the consideration I believe it's due.

I don't see anyone that often, I think, and I wonder what the variable might be.

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

That Old Chestnut

The day, busy as it is, with work and workings, with all the talk and moving about, with all the projects done and yet undone, still feels wasted.

"There's only two hours a day I don't fucking hate," she says, and I know exactly what she means. I put up the wine bottle, and rinse out the glasses, start the dish washer, brush my teeth, take out the slivers of plastic I use to see, all the daily maintenance with which I keep this body knit together.

I read my book about mindsets, trying to tame my straycat mind into the habits that make for a good life, a happy life, and I wonder at all this effort, when I spend so much time working, working, working, and then I think, ah shit, this old feeling again?