Who will I become or did it already happen? Am I just stuck as who I became? What’s the difference between who I became and who I have become?
My friend Reid gets into diatribes during our Marco Polo conversations. The word diatribe—I’m unsure if it means philosophical pondering. Ok, Wikipedia is setting me straight: A diatribe, also known less formally as a rant, is a lengthy oration, though often reduced to writing, that criticizes someone or something, often employing humor, sarcasm, and appeals to emotion. Examples include:
- A father lecturing his son about his wasted life.
- A person who eats meat speaks about the ridiculousness of being vegetarian.
- An intense political speech.
He was definitely not diatribing. Still, I don’t have the space for philosophical self-thoughts, but it was definitely interesting listening to his musings.
Onto packing. The last-minute Hail Mary’s included our two bedside lamps, curtain rods and curtains, and my clothes. Did you know I’m down to two pairs of socks, less than five T-shirts, two pairs of jeans, and one or two sweatshirts? I’m living the minimalist dream!
For now.
Speaking of stuff, I took advantage of Prime Day and purchased a cartload of furnishings for the new house, including barstools, mattresses, a desk chair, a blender, and an EyeVac. Since, like me, once upon a time, you don’t know what an EyeVac is, let me tell you. After getting my hair cut, the hairdresser swept my hair to a two-foot-tall machine and motion-activated it to magically suck up my hair. And since we opted not to install a thousands-of-dollar central vac in our house, I figured a hundred-dollar sucker would help me never to bend over and poorly broom fine dirt and scraps under the dustpan ever again.
My eyes are blurring from staring too long, and the full trash can icon is blurred into the “A”—Applications icon, creating a sandal. It was cute and made me want a sandal icon.
My weeks continue to slow at work. Even though I had an eight-hour day today, the next two days are a sprinkling. What in the heck to do with all the newfound free time is a problem, and a good problem at that.
Milton’s 3rd Annual Touch A Truck is what we’ll do with some of that time. This Thursday for two hours and fifteen minutes, you too can touch a truck!
Alright, that’s enough silliness for one post. I’ll see you here tomorrow.
Love,
Jaclynn
PS This post’s photo is of my favorite plant. I recuperated him from a sad deathbed. Will he or will he not make the cross-country trek with me? Stay tuned.
Going On 40 