Thursday, July 23, 2009

Operation Ignore Hiatus

Now I know why they don't want to mention Voldemort, which sounds a lot like Wal-Mart, at Hogwarts. Because they're ignoring him and hoping he'll go away.

I see the same thing at family reunions. We have certain favorites and certain ones who are a burr under everyone's saddle. They've been married so many times we don't know what their name is. And every time they come over we have to put away the pictures so we don't accidentally have one of their ex's in front of the current. Or they have some mental eruption. Or they have their hand out. It's a huge burden being the normal ones, but we stick together and it works out OK.

Today, my friends (and I believe you are all my friends, the normal ones anyway, not someone like Garret Al, which sounds a lot like Geritol), I'm going to do my best to ignore ... you know who, he who must not be named. This might be a challenge but I have a definite idea, that if you describe surroundings you can assume the surroundings are being described in different ways as they relate to Mr. X.

As an example, this ignoring has been going on for the last eight hours at least. I went to the bathroom at around 10:20 p.m. and the wall and floor space were tight. But I didn't say anything, nor did I "see" anything. I got up around 5:30 and went to the bathroom again and the wall and floor space seemed like there was more room. Going through the rooms on the way back to my room I noticed some added floor space. These are good signs but it is still early.

Today I hope to read internet news, putter around the house as though nothing was wrong, watch a little TV, have a bottle of pop, and make a day of it. Yep, that's what I'm planning on doing. And why shouldn't I? There's certainly nothing in my way, nothing stopping me. I'm quite free to do as I please, you see, because everything's normal. There's no obstructions that I can detect, nor do I know of any that should be in my way. The path is normal. There's no clutter, nothing whatsoever stretched out from room to room that might bring me down. I am unencumbered.

After I type this, I think I might go back to bed and sleep a little longer. There's no reason I shouldn't. The way is free and clear to get to my room. There's nothing I need to step over, nothing gumming up the works. Nothing sticky up against the wall. Nothing I know of coiled upon my dresser or blocking my wardrobe. My bed is vast and empty as far as I can tell. I can stretch, kick the covers off if I so choose, and see clearly out the window, the freshly risen sun reflecting off the garage window.

Ahh, life has beckoned the sun to rise on another day. In fact, it's up early. I guess it couldn't wait to get the day started, a sentiment that I echo and applaud. Soon it will have stretched all it's going to, getting its rays all loosened up for a busy day. Then it will be roused to full wakefulness and will be ready to get down to business. By the time it ascends to where it has an unobstructed view of our half acre, it'll be up and at 'em to stay, no turning back. And as it beams down its glorious joy, I hope it looks down on our little house with favor. And perhaps, maybe, give us just a little flare to burn out any residue, any bacteria that could be encroaching on our property. Whether it sees me or not, I'll do that arm pump like the kids do when trucks come by, and hope it responds.

It'd be a great day to open the windows and let in the breeze. It's cool this morning. Why shouldn't I? There's nothing stopping me. I can open them freely if that's what I choose to do, and there's no reason I should expect any kind of gummy, dominating jelly monster, if such there ever were, to prevent me.

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