And another perfect day of solitude in the glittering desert opens with warm sun, chittering finches, wheeling raptors, quail families.
On Sundays, Simon and I like to do the NYT crossword together, drink a lot of really good coffee, and watch the birds. He sits by the pool while I swim, but does not come in. I thank my lucky stars that no one is in charge of me, making me visit relatives (this might be why I hate sitting on couches, the second I sit on one I feel a valve open and my life starts draining out of it) or go to church.
There is no dinner to cook, nowhere I have to be. But still, just thinking of Sundays can piss me off, which is absurd, seeing as whatever dudgeon I have about all of that stolen time is fairly dusty- I’ve been free for over 30 years.
Apparently, it’s a permanent grudge. What a waste of energy.
No one has ever made Miss Fish visit anyone, or listen to bizarre, unpleasant, myth-based threats of fire and brimstone, of terrible End Times ™ and a jealous, petulant Creator who tortured nice people just to see if they went bad and pretended that you might have to kill your child to prove your love. Meh.
But of course I’m also still disgusted with the Tooth Fairy, Santa Claus, Jr. High, high school, college, corporate life, politics, religion, and just about every other organized societal structure. You see why I have to live alone, with lizards?
Just the slightest whiff of bullshit, and I’m done. Which doesn’t leave much, and frequently leaves me out as well.
It’s rude to go all paparazzi on someone’s little baby, so this is really the best I can do. But look! CARDINAL BABY!