Stuck in a rut? Blame the husband.
I've been telling myself that I need to blog more often and it seems the more I tell myself that, the less it happens. Perhaps this is how it feels to be stuck in a rut?
Wallow, wallow, wallow.
Some days the rut is nice, it's steep walls are like a hug that the rest of the world refuses to give you.
Wallow, wallow, wallow.
I am the lunar year of the boar. Born to wallow.
Alas, I've always fancied myself better than cliches, thus, I ought to be immune to cliched spaces. Ruts don't exist in my idealist mind. But, somehow, unicorns do.
See? This lack of focus? This can't be a rut! My mind is everywhere but confined. You'd think rut-life would be good, it forces you to focus on that which is at hand. Some people call that a skill. I'm bored just considering it.
Here's another tangent: yesterday, I watched the movie, North by Northwest.
And while watching it, I realized two very important life lessons:
1. I quite like Cary Grant. His Girl Friday? The absolute best.
2. I am sorely out-of-date.
There is no problem with realization #1, except that the charming fellow is dead now. But fear not! If you adhere to realization #2, that shouldn't matter, since you, like me, seem to live in a glorified sense of the past.
Every day I seem to have this battle in my mind about being so old-fashioned in this 2013 world. I ask my inner self things like,
Marrying Alex, as it turns out, was my demise.
I thought I loved this boy because he was so outspoken and individual-minded. Well, that is still true. But, take heed young couples! Loving a boy for one of these deep-seated, principlistic qualities is serious business.
This nut of a guy reassured my idealistic and curious mind. He actually encouraged me to voice an opinion of MY VERY OWN. And he stroked my ego while I did it.
Whoa, that's just dirty. Why would a husband ever want a woman like that?!
Now I'm ruined.
I can no longer go with the flow of things without questioning, why? Always, "why?" And, "is this the best way to do that?"
Like a child. Living in this serious adulthood. Things don't fit very well.
Childlike wonder is not so bad a thing, you may say. First of all, yes it is. No one has tolerance for such questions when you're not an adorable two-year-old.
Especially me. Grow up, already, Staci. Quit wondering about the world-at-large and get yourself a regular paycheck. There is something to be said for stability.
But, where to find it?
Ah! Again with the questions. All I do is ask 'em. Maybe someone can shut me up by offering a few answers.
Wallow, wallow, wallow.
Some days the rut is nice, it's steep walls are like a hug that the rest of the world refuses to give you.
Wallow, wallow, wallow.
I am the lunar year of the boar. Born to wallow.
Alas, I've always fancied myself better than cliches, thus, I ought to be immune to cliched spaces. Ruts don't exist in my idealist mind. But, somehow, unicorns do.
See? This lack of focus? This can't be a rut! My mind is everywhere but confined. You'd think rut-life would be good, it forces you to focus on that which is at hand. Some people call that a skill. I'm bored just considering it.
Here's another tangent: yesterday, I watched the movie, North by Northwest.
And while watching it, I realized two very important life lessons:
1. I quite like Cary Grant. His Girl Friday? The absolute best.
2. I am sorely out-of-date.
There is no problem with realization #1, except that the charming fellow is dead now. But fear not! If you adhere to realization #2, that shouldn't matter, since you, like me, seem to live in a glorified sense of the past.
Every day I seem to have this battle in my mind about being so old-fashioned in this 2013 world. I ask my inner self things like,
"Why do people have to drive in individual automobiles like hermits instead of using the friendly local rail?"
"When did gas get so expensive?"
"Why is the TV so noisy?!"
Marrying Alex, as it turns out, was my demise.
I thought I loved this boy because he was so outspoken and individual-minded. Well, that is still true. But, take heed young couples! Loving a boy for one of these deep-seated, principlistic qualities is serious business.
 |
| It's only funny when it's not true. |
This nut of a guy reassured my idealistic and curious mind. He actually encouraged me to voice an opinion of MY VERY OWN. And he stroked my ego while I did it.
 |
| Caught in the act: whispering sweet nothings and spicy somethings. |
Whoa, that's just dirty. Why would a husband ever want a woman like that?!
Now I'm ruined.
I can no longer go with the flow of things without questioning, why? Always, "why?" And, "is this the best way to do that?"
Like a child. Living in this serious adulthood. Things don't fit very well.
Childlike wonder is not so bad a thing, you may say. First of all, yes it is. No one has tolerance for such questions when you're not an adorable two-year-old.
Especially me. Grow up, already, Staci. Quit wondering about the world-at-large and get yourself a regular paycheck. There is something to be said for stability.
But, where to find it?
 |
| "Look Alex! I found stability for us!" "No, Staci, that's a sewer." |
Ah! Again with the questions. All I do is ask 'em. Maybe someone can shut me up by offering a few answers.
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