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This is what it could look like when one completely deconstructs a life as one knows it, and how to build from the ground up. Alternatively, this is a fresh look at an old story. The fine art of falling apart.

Sons of mediocrity

I got a note recently from someone I used to tussle with in the past. Nothing earth shattering but it got me thinking. Certain songs and bands remind me of this person but other than that, I can’t think of anything else that makes him stand out. He is, the perfect lesson in mediocrity. He doesn’t do any particular thing well, he just sort of does everything. In kind of a shitty way. That thought made me sad. His poor wife.

In any event, I’m in the thick of buying a yoga/pilates mat, spending inordinate amounts of time looking at exercise balls (I still haven’t really figured out their true function) and comparing exercise clothing to the closet of items I already own that lives in my head. I know it’s all in vain: I will never be a thin girl. And if it turns out that I am, it’s probably because I’ve taken up a new drug habit or starting substituting gin for water. Who knows.

Email. I love it. But then I hate it. Just when I think I’ve made plans, another email comes in to tell me the location of planned walk-with-crazy-dog has changed. *After* I’ve bought a new leash at the dollar store on my lunch hour (which is part of the plan to make Buckley OBEY).

So, we’ll meet up somewhere else and then I get to go home. I’m expecting a couple of things in the mail, so it sort of sucks I am at work instead of waiting in front of the door (like my little terrier) for the door bell to ring. Yeah, I just wrote that sentence.

So, that’s it. My apartment is a disaster (good frame of reference as to how things are in my head), work is still boring. And I’m still waiting for something interesting to happen. I’m told to be patient.

I should have told him that patience has never been one of my strong points.

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