I’m having one of those days - those days where your sadness feels like it lies just beneath your skin, waiting to come out at the slightest prick - that tearjerking human interest story, a touching commercial.. Or just that moment when it feels like the bottom of your heart is going to drop out and everything is going to slide down your leg, pushing that forgotten pair of underwear in your jeans leg down into your flip flop.
Its just one of those days, those days when it seems like every news story is impossible (Kids running for candy from American GI’s blown up in Bagdhad by a car bomb?) the weather is so damp and humid that it would unkink Anna Nicole Smith.. You know those days. The ones where not only do you wish you’d stayed in bed, but that your bed had turned over with you in it and you could hide for the next eon, or at least until they found a cure for bug bite itches and ill fitting britches.
Instead, I’m in my office attempting to write about the ill fated and somewhat humorous plan to link all of India’s rivers together (Then they’ll all be holy!) in some cockeyed attempt to irrigate this un-irrigatable and increasingly irritable country.
And to top it off, the only bookstore I really like is near a Parsee cemetary, where this particular religion dictates you should just mumify in the sun, or, god willing, be eaten by the increasingly rare (and increasingly sacred) brown vulture. So now I can’t figure out if it’s the self help books I’m reading that stink, or an unfortunate Parsee getting their final suntan.
Deliver me.
No comments:
Post a Comment