Statues

Wow, what a difference a year can make. I was just glancing through my life, as blogged, this time last year. It is almost laugh-out-loud different perspectives. And you know…bad different. One thing I can say…I have definitely grown, matured, ripened, if you will. Basically I have seemingly turned into a big ole bitch about a lot of things I used to be pretty hopeful and excited about. I am trying, trying, trying to correct that.

Here’s a snip-it of my manic, across the board, thinking on my life.

As I walk from the Trader Joe’s parking lot to my truck with my milk and eggs (literally) I smile at the mental image of myself buying such basic groceries and heading home after a long day at the office. I imagined the woman checking out in front of me in the market was pretty much in the same boat as me. We happened upon eye contact in the wine section and then I got in line behind her. So I drove home to an empty apartment to be greeted by my puppy. Looking for traces of my Hugo, then remembering he left at the same time as me this morning so I will not find any new messes to comfort me in his absence tonight. I immediately delve into the production of making a dinner / lunch dish for tonight and tomorrow. I uncork my red wine, throw my tofu and veggie lasagna into the oven and walk Shaka around the block.

The entire walk was a freaked out incident of me not being able to stop myself from imagining the bodily pain I could feel if I were to meet my gruesome end on that walk. I am probably in morbid thought mode because of Sweeny Todd. Hugo had me meet him at the movie house last night and would not tell me which movie he had bought tickets to. It was nice to do this. The movie, however, was a total blood fest. An albeit beautiful blood fest with an inspiring musical performance by Monsieur Depp that has had me singing Broadway tunes all day.

Meandering thoughts abounding, I am back here full circle, in my bathrobe, in the living room, finishing off my second (third) serving of my tofu/veggie lasagna and my second (really second) glass of red wine. I am wondering if I still hate my life. I am pretty sure I don’t actually love it anymore. The wine is excellent except that every other sip I have is total crap…do you see where this is going?

I will spare you the rest of it.