I often wonder if my time here on this big blue spinning marble is going to be considered time well spent. I often wonder just how each day gets filled up by so much, without really even trying. I often feel like I am being judged, like I am being compared to, like I am trying to do just a little better than the next one.
The next what? What am I being compared to? What am I filling my days up with? How do they all just get, filled up?
I woke up at five past five this morning, wide awake, and with the sound of a crow hollering down the road, it was evident that the day had indeed started getting filled up with, things. The sun was still thinking about peeking its head up over the tree tops. All of the things that tend to fill a day up were all lining up, checking their schedules, waiting their turns, whispering to each other as they patiently got ready to take their place, filling up the day.
Where do they come from? Did I buy them on sale and store them in a closet one night while sleepwalking my way through another night? Did I hit the home shopping network one day and buy a life’s supply of things? Is this all pre-sorted out, with my name on it all? Was it double coupon day at the local market? How do they just, “appear”, like that. Every day, one after the other, one at a time, until another day is filled up again, and night comes around it’s like, umm, wicked weird. It’s so unexplainable. . I’m telling you, it’s just simply incredible.
Its six thirty now. The dogs are walked, watered and fed. The cardinal has made his beautiful six o’clock in the morning call. The guy down the street with the loud truck has already gone by, on his way to work, and here I am once again, sitting in front of my computer, wondering what to write. I feel like I am supposed to write something, so away I go.
You ever feel like their is something you are supposed to be doing? You ever feel like the world isn’t spinning quite right until you figure out what it is and get on with it? How do we know what ‘it’ is? How do we instinctively know where we are supposed to be, and what we are supposed to be doing? It’s pretty amazing that the world isn’t full of six billion people, wandering around, bumping into each other, with no clue what to do, where to go, or who to do it with. It’s just simply amazing, if you think about it that is.
Listen. Did you hear that? Another car just went by, on its way to, somewhere it’s supposed to be. Just simply amazing. All of this stuff, one after the other, One by one. Who sorts out all of this stuff anyways? I mean, just wait a second, and, there it is! Whappo! Whammie! Pow! Some more stuff, right over there, coming this way! Incoming!
Coco the horse dog is right where she is supposed to be. Deena the dainty is right where she is supposed to be. My feet are crossed, under my computer desk, right where they are supposed to be, or’ well’, maybe I shouldn’t have them crossed. There. Better.
Last night, I listened to a song by Arcade Fire before I went to bed; it’s the song, “Suburbs” from the album of the same name. I woke up with it playing in my head, and it’s still playing, an hour and a half later, just like it’s supposed to be? Really? I mean, it’s a catchy tune and all, but, really? Is this how one goes about filling their day up? By listening to Arcade Fire? I didn’t even know about this band a year ago. How did they just show up this morning, and start filling my day up? Do I have to pay them royalties or something? I hope not, cuz I didn’t sign up for them. I mean, I don’t heaven have any premium channels with the discounted package plan that I, umm, filled up my day with.
Once again, I seem to find myself off on a tangent, writing about non pertinent information that really has no bearings on much of anything. Maybe I should just hit control, home, then control, shift, end, delete. No. I don’t think so.
I think I will continue to be amazed at just how neatly things fill up my days. I will just keep trying to figure it all out, while at the same time, not having a clue how to. I think I will take all of this stuff in stride and be grateful that at the end of the day, I have a place to lay my head, so I can try to unwind and sort out all of the stuff that has filled up the day.
No wonder we dream so much. It’s a wonder we can sleep at all with all of the stuff swimming around up there, up here, “tapping my melon”. It’s a wonder anything ever gets done, with all of this stuff going on. Everywhere you look. It never stops. It just keeps on being, stuffed up with stuff.
There, see? Quarter of seven and the blue jay is banging the seed open on the kitchen window feeder. Just like he’s supposed to. Seamlessly, like a well oiled machine, chugging along, very nicely. So goes the day.
What am I going to do next? I mean, this blog post is coming to a screeching halt, and I’ll have to save it, then spell check it, just like I’m supposed to. What am I going to do after that? Where will the next stuff come from? What will I do with it? Will I have a choice what I can do, or who I can do it with? Is there an inventory list somewhere containing all of this, stuff?
It’s like pulling into a gas station, rolling the window down, and hollering out to the attendant, “Fill ‘er up!”