My right eye has been twitching for the last three days. Like an itchy trigger finger only I don’t have a gun and the eye thing is a bit more creepy. Maybe its’ some sort of deficiency. I ate a banana but it didn’t stop. Understand it’s out of my control should we happen to cross paths. I’m not being coquettish.
The fleur de lis is lonely. Want is there — design is not. Permanence makes it matter.
My summer is taking shape and yet, two days ago I had to turn the heater back on. That’s just not right. And the grass needs mowed. Again. It’s not even April. The business of springtime has me yearning for the summer I’ve got planned. Busy in it’s own right but immensely more enjoyable. Not that cheering my kids in their respective athletic endeavors this spring will not bring me utmost satisfaction, it certainly will.
I just happen to feel that watching my kids frolic along the sandy beaches of a Caribbean island as Maura and I sip mai tai’s is going to rank slightly higher on the pleasure scale.
I’m that guy. Hate me if you must.
The twitchy eye could mean that I just don’t care.