Sunday, December 03, 2006
misery doesn't become me
Lately I doubt myself like it's a full-time job. I can't seem to make sense of things: all options seem equally possible and impossible, equally hopeful and awful. I agree with everyone, and no one. I doubt my intuition, my sense of right and wrong. I scour my inner cupboards for wisdom; I meditate; I yell at God. I endlessly rearrange the data, hoping for a paradigm shift or perhaps a revelation.
I am, all in all, rather miserable.
Nonetheless, some things need not be doubted. For example, I bought a dark blue corduroy topcoat with grey flowers and big buttons, which, when worn with my new grey leggings, makes me resemble George Washington sans powered wig. Lucas fed me pecan pie and ice cream all weekend. And when all his efforts to lure the octopus out into its tank at the Boston Aquarium produced little more than a momentary writhing of tentacles, we meted out revenge with a plate of calamari and scotch at a harbor restaurant. And today, as Rachel and I left the Tuckahoe Starbucks, the baristas called after us and offered us free bagels and muffins--the kind with a dollop of sweet cream cheese in the middle. Not to mention I've found a new counselor I really like--her business card is printed in dark green ink by letterpress on homemade paper.