I’m not a fan of kids’ cartoons; they’re too mile-a-minute for my taste. After a bender on cocaine-laced meth, it’s as if the show’s creators speed into the drawing table and get cracking (pun intended).
Enter the slow-paced, real-to-life, problem-solving, thoughtful, and visually captivating show Tumble Leaf. Instead of wanting to scratch my eyeballs out, my body melts into a full-body bean bag chair as I tune to it in a way that feels like meditating.
An impromptu request to eat out tonight led my parents to accept, as well, my eating a pot roast Philly sandwich. I never thought to position that succulent meat in a hoagie, but from this day forward, I will.
The discovery of caulking in my late twenties was a game-changer. Pursuing and executing the perfect bead to smooth in with my nude finger’s tip spawns a seductive sensation rivaled only by pressure washing.
Gaps around outlets, along the floor’s trim and window sills, have reached a caulk-worthy crescendo. I’ll grab my gun and slam in a full caulk tube at the rooster’s crow tomorrow. Or shortly after that.
Also on the docket tomorrow is Pierce County’s seed swap, a community event to donate and receive gardening seeds. Since I am a virgin, I will only receive seeds, but in the coming years will be expected to give back. I accept Pierce County, I accept.
I prefer to do a Kate Winslet and free myself of Leo’s icy bod, but I can’t seem to do it. Why can’t I let certain things go? Maybe I need to remember; some people are just assholes.
My feet are twisting and swirling in softness coupled with a fresh scent, a lovely souvenir that the sheets were laundered earlier today.
I’m fading and fading fast.
Night, night. Love, Jaclynn