Today I had a Groundhog Day experience.
No, I didn’t wake up to the same day I had yesterday. It was more like the scene where Bill Murray, realizing he was continually waking up to the same day and knowing absolutely everything that was going to happen, speculated that God might be nothing more impressive than someone who’d been around long enough to see it all happen. Not superhuman as much as well worn. Continue reading
Today I shaved my ears. It’s a little routine I’ve gotten into doing – about once a week – to preserve my mental health.
No, it’s not because of that little baulk some people do when they see a guy with hairy ears. If you don’t know what that looks like – and I’m hoping you don’t – imagine speaking with someone who has just realized that odd smell isn’t coming from their own arm pits.
Mmm, tasty.
Today, for the first time in way too long, I sat down with some musician friends to make a song. God I’ve missed it.
We writers tend to go into our dark, little holes to bang out our words … wait for our muse … draw doodles in the margins of the page … or whatever, depending on the mood. Point being, we’re alone.
It’s for this reason I hound coffee shops, looking for a window table nestled gently between the view onto the street and that of the patrons. I’m still alone with my work, but it’s tempered by evidence of life. Thoughts of self-flagellation tend to be dampened down somewhat. A good thing in and of itself.
Today I was lamenting my dry hands with the girls at work.
“You’re like my husband,” said one of them. “He refuses to use hand cream – even if his hands are so chafed he’s in pain.”
Some of the other girls, the ones who know me a little better, laughed.
Why? Because I’m as metrosexual as they come concerning my hobbit hands. I’ve barely started one tube of rejuvenating hand formula before I get started on the next. My desk is lined with them. Should I use the lavender and shea butter this morning, or am I more in the mood for avocado oil with added bioflavonoids?
cheers ...
p u t n i k 