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Category: Bite-Sized Thoughts

Miniature musings from me. Formerly a tag.

  • WHAT A WONDERFUL WORLD

    Sometimes I want to be an author in a secluded cabin somewhere, where I can write my little stories and make a modest means without ever having to leave, never having to interact with anyone outside my four walls. 

    And other times I stop to admire the beauty of nature when I’m walking, how flitting bumblebees move from flower to flower, how groups of people laugh at brunch, how children scream in delight running on playgrounds, or how I have a pleasant conversation with the grocer at the store, and then I remember that I do love life and the people around it, and it is a wonderful world.

  • BROWSING THE OBITS

    Ever just pop in to check the obits? You know, just to make sure you don’t see anyone you know.

  • A Perfect Day

    This being my last day before I head back to school, we decided to make the most of it, and what a mighty fine day it was. I got to spend time with my mom. We got delicious iced coffee drinks. The weather was pretty outside today; plenty of sunshine and crisp blue skies. We got to visit and talk to the doggies at the SPCA. We got to run errands. I got a nice driver’s license photo. I took a hot shower, and a nice homecooked meal. It’s moments like these where life gets less turbulent, less stressful to live, that make it all worth enduring. And I know my two am recollection of events doesn’t convey much emotion, but I will appreciate it all forever, again and again.

  • EIGHTEEN ENTIRE KITKATS

    Yesterday at the store, we found a yard-stick long pack of 18 full-sized KitKats for $10. Meowza! You know what kind of deal that is? A good one! They’re a little stale, but mmmhhh. Nothing will get between me and that KitKat-y goodness. Tastes even better in the freezer.

  • A ROOM THAT SWEATS

    The humidity has been off the charts the last couple of days, no thanks in part to the leak in our bathroom. For weeks now, hot water trickles out of our bathtub faucet, and a thick, heavy steam clings to every surface of the room. The white paint has started to bubble and separate from the walls. The ceiling weeps like a crying eye. It makes it even worse at night, where you feel its droplets tap at your shoulder or back like an intruder. There is a window, and oftentimes it feels like shadows move across the backyard. The condensation from the temperature difference makes the glass pane so opaque that, if we did have someone peering in, we’d be none the wiser.