Abandon ship now...
(Everything Else, 1837 views) - 11/21/03
(recorded 11/21/03 @ 11:23:21 PM)
Originally for... well, you know who you are...
It was dark outside. It wasn"t usually this dark this early, but the clouds kept from us what remaining sunlight there was at this hour. It wasn"t so dark that the street lights were on yet" It was more the type of dark where the street lights start questioning whether they should be doing their thing or not.
I came inside just in time to see her disappear into a room at the end of the foyer. It was beautiful. Have you ever had that feeling, where you love someone so deeply that you become wholly immersed in their execution of the smallest chores? She closed the door behind her beautifully. I followed her, with a manufactured sense of irony.
Out of the frying pan, into the fire, it would seem. If the "frying pan" was really just another word for "outside" and "fire" was "kitchen". But I digress. There was yelling.
"You only think about yourself!"
Quickly, I surveyed the room and saw her. Her, and the target of her accusation. Glad that it wasn"t me, I moved in (however foolishly, in retrospect) to console her. Before I could reach her, she started yelling again:
"Now my only consolation is that this could not last forever, even though you"re singing and thinking how well you"ve got it made."
She was pointing at the wall. Upon further inspection, I realized she was pointing more specifically at our no-longer-operational microwave oven. At that moment, my mind did one of those little trips to never-land, where thoughts of absolutely everything seemingly unrelated to the topic at hand flood inward, leaving me wondering how exactly I was thinking just that" And for some reason, when she pointed at that microwave oven, I just thought of Kirby- the vacuum cleaner from "The Brave Little Toaster". She snapped me back to reality with what started as more shouting, but soon trailed off into nothingness"
"Well?!" she asked, "What are you waiting for, a certain shade of green?"
At this point, I was well convinced that the microwave oven had absolutely no intent of listening to her. Really, why should it? I did another one of those internal monologue things and quickly formulated what exactly would be going through the microwave"s "mind" if" you know" it" had one. It"s reply, as I envisioned it:
"To get up and walk away will be too easy. So stay and stand your ground, just watch your mouth with me."
It was a well-spoken microwave oven, I"ll give it that. If only the "micros" hadn"t stopped "waving", as she so eloquently put it. She started mumbling now"
"If this is right, I"d rather be wrong. If this is sight, I"d rather be blind."
It was becoming clear to me that a trip to our local appliance-mart might be in order. I finally got a word in edge-wise, and tried to take her mind off the "heathen" microwave oven, now sans "waving micros".
"I think I was dreaming up some thoughts that were seemingly possible, with you."
Previous musing: Your silly attempt to sleep is futile, you see...
Next musing: Lucid, departed
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