(All writing published here is owned by me unless cited otherwise.)
I might say the same things again and again, but that’s how we live isn’t it? We wake up just to say that we are so tired, we want to go back to bed, we don’t want to do any work today. And oh look at that- I’m hungry. And then you laugh because your stomach makes a noise you still think is funny even though you’ve been hearing it all your life. Now you go off to do some sort of activity, of which you will say the same thing that you said yesterday and the day before, and in fact every single day for the past few years since you learned gleefully that those are the jokes your friends always respond to. They relate to your feelings about Mondays and to your deep yearning for a trip to Starbucks. And then you look at yourself and you remark that you think you’re getting fat, and they reassure you with oh-you’re-great-compared-to-the-way-I’M-looking-these-days. And you talk about how much you hate whoever last demanded anything of you before you have a five-minutes-each conversation about how what you want to eat for lunch is different from what you actually are going to eat for lunch. And then you eat your lunch, stopping every now and then to glare at your sandwich as though it’s a reflection of you. Oh the calories! The carbs! The fat! The pounds! And maybe the weather is sunny, so you’ll talk about how much you love it when it rains.