Trainwreck Lives, Recurring Madness
Jun. 6th, 2016 11:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thisnewdayToday they are cleaning our hotel suite and so, after dropping the grandson off at school and picking up Her Nurseliness from work, I got a coffee from the McDonald's on Erie Boulevard and sat drinking it while I waited for the nearby Barnes & Noble to open for the day. Once inside I purchased a book, based on nothing more than its sentimental title and dedication.
I also looked at a purportedly high-end pocket journal and a matching flat-profile pen, which was sold separately. The pen was said to be refillable/rechargeable and was also high-end. An impression which was confirmed for me by the discovery that the second language on the packaging was French.
If they'd also said that the $15 price for each of them would somehow be reflected in the quality of what was written on or with them, I might've gone for it. But since no such claim was made, I left with my sentimentally-chosen paperback and bought my customary Bic pen and spiral-bound notepad at Walmart. A decision which will likely stand as my most viable claim to rationality in recent months.
Then I set out to replace the black nylon shaving bag which is now relegated to the rear-most compartment of our SUV because of the dirty brown hue and acrid odor which now cling to it.
Some years ago, I'd written an entry which told of my encounter with a man who'd moments before been driven out of his house by a raging fire and was frantic for fear that his dog was lost in it.
I wrote about it in a way that I hoped would both capture the terror of those moments and memorialize his loss in their aftermath.
For myself, I can only say, as I sit in the noisy lobby of a small hotel off the interstate highway, that our dogs are both safe and that what was lost will in time be replaced.
And that afterwards, our trainwreck lives will likely continue unimpeded toward our next encounter with recurring madness...
LPK
LiveJournal
6.6.2016
I also looked at a purportedly high-end pocket journal and a matching flat-profile pen, which was sold separately. The pen was said to be refillable/rechargeable and was also high-end. An impression which was confirmed for me by the discovery that the second language on the packaging was French.
If they'd also said that the $15 price for each of them would somehow be reflected in the quality of what was written on or with them, I might've gone for it. But since no such claim was made, I left with my sentimentally-chosen paperback and bought my customary Bic pen and spiral-bound notepad at Walmart. A decision which will likely stand as my most viable claim to rationality in recent months.
Then I set out to replace the black nylon shaving bag which is now relegated to the rear-most compartment of our SUV because of the dirty brown hue and acrid odor which now cling to it.
Some years ago, I'd written an entry which told of my encounter with a man who'd moments before been driven out of his house by a raging fire and was frantic for fear that his dog was lost in it.
I wrote about it in a way that I hoped would both capture the terror of those moments and memorialize his loss in their aftermath.
For myself, I can only say, as I sit in the noisy lobby of a small hotel off the interstate highway, that our dogs are both safe and that what was lost will in time be replaced.
And that afterwards, our trainwreck lives will likely continue unimpeded toward our next encounter with recurring madness...
LPK
LiveJournal
6.6.2016
