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It must run in the family... the panic attacks. Two hours after I burrowed my head into the pillows, the phone rings. It's josie, calling from eighty miles away...the windshield wiper comes off in the rain. Time to call mom. Time for me to burrow deeper. Tropical depression, atmospherically. Day-long torrential rain... like that's something new. This is going to be a bitch of a hurricane season. It did get me compiling my concert updates earlier than ever. Amazing what stir-craziness will do for you. The new plants are still alive, invisibly coiling roots into new soil. The hallway is beginning to look remarkably smooth... ready to retrim and repaint. I learned how to make mango lassi, right after i raided all of my catch-alls for coins (this week is gonna be right-tight-outtasite). Somehow, i'm not feeling very independant. On the way home last night, the good talk radio was questioning just who gets to feel independant, anyway. Certainly not Africans. Or native Americans. Or poor people. It took me clear off my inspiration for red white and blue. Always, the cloud with the silver lining. Guess I'll have to spread the sentiment. Or is that "sediment"? |
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