For eight months I have been taking walks, at dawn or long after dark. In the morning you get dogwalkers, but not one other person in the subdivision shows his face after 10 pm. This surprises but does not displease me. I don't want to chat, I don't want to take my earphones out, I want to listen to this eight times in a row without being pestered.
In a twist of stupid, I guess I am destined to be surrounded by bunnies everywhere I go. If my spirit animal turns out to be a bunny I will be pissed.
Most rabbits I have seen on one walk: 19. Most in a row who have not run from me: 7. This number is growing (it used to be zero) and while I have no plans to gain their trust until I can curl up and sleep among them in the grass, NOAH, it's nice to know they are less afraid. Tonight, four of those seven were lined up neatly along the curb, parallel and perfect. They watched me pass without turning their heads. Even with the streetlight revealing them, they did not seem bothered, just interrupted.
When I moved in here, I had to shrink a house's worth of stuff into one room. I brought only the clothes I knew I would actually wear, with one exception, one pair of "maybe someday" pants. Nothing too special - grayish green cargo pants I'd had since forever, had never been able to fit into and never been able to throw away. I would try them on once a year or so and get sad about it. I don't know why I brought them with me, other than thinking that there was no telling how my life was about to change.
So tomorrow I take the scissors to these pants, because they will no longer stay up. I'll take them in at the seams and wear them for as long as I can, even though they give me a bit of a dumpy ass. I might keep these pants for a long, long time, because it's nice to be able to regard them from the other side. I don't have a lot of vanity and I don't talk a lot about these things, but what I have, I cherish fiercely, like you just don't know.
In a twist of stupid, I guess I am destined to be surrounded by bunnies everywhere I go. If my spirit animal turns out to be a bunny I will be pissed.
Most rabbits I have seen on one walk: 19. Most in a row who have not run from me: 7. This number is growing (it used to be zero) and while I have no plans to gain their trust until I can curl up and sleep among them in the grass, NOAH, it's nice to know they are less afraid. Tonight, four of those seven were lined up neatly along the curb, parallel and perfect. They watched me pass without turning their heads. Even with the streetlight revealing them, they did not seem bothered, just interrupted.
When I moved in here, I had to shrink a house's worth of stuff into one room. I brought only the clothes I knew I would actually wear, with one exception, one pair of "maybe someday" pants. Nothing too special - grayish green cargo pants I'd had since forever, had never been able to fit into and never been able to throw away. I would try them on once a year or so and get sad about it. I don't know why I brought them with me, other than thinking that there was no telling how my life was about to change.
So tomorrow I take the scissors to these pants, because they will no longer stay up. I'll take them in at the seams and wear them for as long as I can, even though they give me a bit of a dumpy ass. I might keep these pants for a long, long time, because it's nice to be able to regard them from the other side. I don't have a lot of vanity and I don't talk a lot about these things, but what I have, I cherish fiercely, like you just don't know.
