Why Is It ...

… that when someone asks what I’m doing later and my answer is “nothing,” it is not an opening in my schedule. Nothing is the event. Nothing is the plan.

… that I just realized I needed to frolic more but then knowing me I was sure I’d trip over a root and have to be airlifted out of the meadow.

… that I open my phone to check one thing and 47 minutes later I know how a woman in Ohio organizes her pantry and watched a video of a cat eating pasta but have no idea what I was supposed to be looking for.

… that most days I am one pocket caught on a door handle away from a complete fucking meltdown

…. That people don’t understand that all I can offer them is awkward conversation or awkward silence; the choice is theirs.

… that I love that cats always slap the shit out of things they don’t understand. I need to be more cat.

… that at this point in my life the only inheritance I’ll be able to leave is my collection of grocery bags that I store inside another grocery bag.

… that people don’t remember that I have taken a break from my healing journey and have gone back to being an asshole for a while.

… that when a friend asked what my plans were for the fall it took me a minute to realize he meant autumn and not the collapse of civilization.

… that when I am sharing a plate of nachos at the bar with a friend I am always thinking five nacho moves ahead of them.