Malaise Days

Having spent a large portion of this hot, humid, drought of a summer alone, I’m ready for better weather as a backdrop to my lack of enthusiasm. One would think that having a lot of time on one’s hands would inspire one to do all sorts of projects around the house. One would think. But when there’s no one around but me and the old dogs (not my feet, real old dogs) my I’ll-do-it-tomorrow syndrome saps my energy and productivity. My whole approach to life is “Ehh” or as in the Bette Midler mini-film “Why botha?”

Husband traveling most of the time; son away at school; me working whenever I can but never really having enough work to have fun money—that’s my life. Oh, I know it could be worse; that’s why I’m just at Ehh. Once when I was in this Phase of Malaise I actually stopped mid-sentence when talking to sister, Jennifer. “Aren’t you going to finish what you were saying?” she asked.

“I’ve got nothin’,” I replied.

David did come home for a few days. We shopped for a gift for his girlfriend and went to I-Hop. He peered past me in the booth and asked, “Is there some law that at some point of old age women are required to get those little tight bubble hairdos?” he asked.

“Apparently so. When I get to that point just shoot me,” I said.

“No problem,” he assured? me.

I also got in my Jeep and rode slowly through a nearby cemetery in search of an incessantly barking dog that I never found. It got me away from the house for a while. “Just promise you won’t get out of the car,” David said as I left, never looking up from his book. Now David is back at school, but he did tell me that a huge, six-point buck tore out of the woods and ran right past him on the sidewalk in broad daylight near the urban Athens, Georgia, campus. Reminds me of when I was in school. Good times. Good times.

One day I spent about forty-five minutes trying to extricate a bug from an adhesive lint roller without maiming it. Every time I worked one leg loose, the nut case put down another foot. It was quite frustrating for me and probably for the bug. I did manage to extricate it sans one leg (his, not mine) and it flew away, most likely at a disadvantage. I thought about the other bugs calling him gimpy, but how bad would it be to spend the one-hour lifespan you've got stuck to a lint roller?

I’ve been reading true crime books with names like “Kiss me, Kill me” but I hide them at night so as not to give an intruder any ideas, because he would probably just take the second part of the title literally. I started to view ordinary household objects like scissors and potato peelers as “weapons of convenience” as termed in the books, so decided to stop reading that genre for awhile. I admit, however, that I did consider putting a candlestick, a pipe, a knife, a rope, and a gun next to the bed along with a Professor Plum card and a sign that said, “Pick just one and make it snappy!”

Last night I watched several episodes of “Intervention” while drinking several glasses of wine. Then on a Sunday morning at 7:30 I got a recorded political message from the Fred Thompson for president campaign. You just lost any hope for a vote from me, you inconsiderate %#@$! It’s as good a way to make political decisions as any at this point.

I can't believe it, but that damn dog is barking again.

So should I watch a movie? Ehh.
Should I fold some laundry? Naah.
Read the paper, clean the bathrooms, vacuum, dust, clean out my closet? No, nein, and nada.

Should I write a blog with any interest or redeeming value whatsoever? Apparently not.