Writing Gaol

Well, every week, on Monday, at our work out group, our coach asks us to set a goal for the week. I don’t like this and I believe I may have written about it before. I feel like I can say anything and there is no one really checking up. I may do it or not. This week, my weekly goal was to write every day. It sounds so easy. Write every day. And not necessarily a blog post. Just write. I started out strong but pretty much petered out by Thursday. My excuse is that this is a night full of beer and Taco Bell with no room for writing. That sounds so lame. But it is true. 

Anyway, I think that I can count today as part of the workout week goal since, you know, we meet on Monday. I had a question-your-sanity moment today. One of those moments that leaves you laughing out loud. By yourself. I had been cooking and the trash really had to go out. I grabbed it and the extra house key because sometimes, you get locked out. Only sometimes. I was home alone so I did not want to take any chances. I took the key attached to the cute knit squid keychain and headed out the door.  

The dumpster is outside in this big doored in area. The people not on the ground floor use a trash chute from their floor. We have to go outside and toss our trash right in the dumpster. So there I was tossing. And, of course, cute knit squid keychain caught on the bag. And in it went. There was some definite cursing. I climbed to the top of the dumpster to see what I was dealing with and it was actually not too bad. The dumpster was pretty empty. I could see that poor squid in the bottom of the dumpster sticking out from under the bag. At that moment, I almost just jumped in. I could just grab it. It was right there. In retrospect, I’m really glad that I did not do that. I am relatively certain that if I had, I may not have been able to get out or if I had been able to get out, I would have been covered in the grimy badness coating the walls of the dumpster. I had mad visions later of being trapped in the dumpster, for who knows how long since my family was out at my son’s first scrimmage football game. I envisioned more garbage coming down the chute and me stuck in the dumpster. It could have been a total horror.

But shockingly enough, better heads prevailed and instead of jumping in. I went back inside (luckily not locked out) and got some tools (like a chimp using a stick to eat ants). I went for an

mmmm, ants.
mmmm, ants.

umbrella and the broom. At first I thought that I could get the end of the umbrella into the loop of the keychain (a good carnival game perhaps, if the theme was Halloween). That was not happening. I ended up using the broom as a kind of scoop and managed to get the key out. The entire thing was so ridiculous that after I got inside and washed my hands, I just stood in the kitchen and laughed out loud. By myself.

 Maybe it was all a sign. Telling me to stop just doing. To think it through a bit. To not just join the Peace Corps. Or not just move to Hawaii. Or not just quit your job. Or maybe the universe was just trying to make sure that I remember to be more like the chimps. Use more tools. Or maybe it is what it is, just a ridiculous story.

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About nematomorph

Living like the rich and famous, splitting time between Hawaii and New York.
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