I itch all over. That annoying dry skin winter thing that is powerfully nerve-grating when you bend anything. You go to tie your shoes, and a slightly painful itch runs like a brush fire all over your back.
I quit the bookstore job. So much for mounds of story coming from it. It was just not the way I wanted to spend my last couple of weeks at home, arriving at 6 cranky and tired, wanting only to sit and veg instead of spending that time with my family. So, out with the bookstore, in with the being at home, doing some work for my mom’s jewelry business, and getting my veg done during the day.
So now I sit at home trying to figure out how not to waste the time I have. It is ridiculous to me that I am, in fact, wasting a good portion of it. I knew I’d hit a low when I actually watched an episode of “Rock of Love Bus”. “Rock of Love Bus”, people. Now I believe that watching some TV has merit. There is real art presented, real pop culture moments that should not be missed. But “Rock of Love Bus”? Bret Michaels had 12 women dress in lingerie and walk up the isle to say wedding vows to him. Then the women fight on the bus. And next week they’re going ice skating where one falls and pops her implant. Lord, I watched the blither for an hour. After waking up at noon.
Every night my little sister asks me to practice drums with her. Sometimes I do, sometimes I’m busy with something else, but last night she didn’t ask me. I was “busy” watching a RECORDED episode of “The Biggest Loser”. I missed it, time with that beautiful little sister of mine, in favor of an activity I could have done while she was in school.
I’m going to India soon. I’m coming back for a short time here after that before serving in the Peace Corps in Armenia. Then I’ll come back, and she’ll be in high school. I believe that going abroad, working for the poor, that is what I am supposed to be doing. But why the heck am I wasting the time I have. These are fleeting moments, little spots of time that are like gold dust blown away in the wind.