mice

Ran into a purview with a much more extensive list of blogs than I have. All this time I've been trying to reign it in, apparently I could have been reaching for the most blogs award. And that was just on blogger.

My bits of 'me' time are very squished between large 'their' times, daily expectations for smooth gear works, and random spontaneous daily rhythm explosions that seem to knock the wind out of my sails.

I know, I know, I'm the one who committed to this venture. The random, bless their souls.

I kept running into a couple of women in Walmart yesterday, which was a real feat since I was whipping through and they were a tad large and slow, but I noticed they congenially rattled the entire time, and I kept wondering why I don't have someone to just rattle like that to. I'm guessing they were related and probably never had other friends, who's to say, and I'm slightly unkindly basing that on their appearances, but that kind of thing doesn't bother me personally. That's just the way society works nowadays. Anyway, they discussed every tiny little bitty thing in the most congenial fashion, and I got a vivid picture of a couple of mice going about a day together doing their little mouse thing while the world flowed unheeding around them. Well, except to take their money at the end.

I don't know that I've had a soul to talk to on that level in my entire life. Not one soul on this earth knows me well enough to just blabber away about every little food item we might put into our mouths, which is odd considering I've professionally cooked and have been a bit of a foodie for years at home, and now I'm redesigning my lifestyle around not being able to eat mainstream foods.

It was hard not to be jealous. I told myself not to think about it and moved along.

I think that's why I've talked to myself so much on blogs for so many years. And journaling for years before that.

Except it hasn't been very congenial.