On November 23rd, I was feeling nostalgic for those times as a kid when we'd make plants out of other plants! or seeds! and sometimes there were milk cartons! and so I stuck some toothpicks into an avocado pit, and hovered it over some water in a jar (we haven't talked about me and my jars yet. Oh well, that's another story) and dreamed of the crack and sprout that would happen in six short weeks if I could just be patient. PATIENT! It was gonna be so worth it. I set up the little pit in the sunniest place in my apartment and changed the water religiously. I sang to it. (I mean, I didn't really sing "to it" but I'm constantly singing so it should have heard me, you know?) I hired a housesitter to take care of it while I was on my vacation. I'm not kidding.
Well, yesterday, after almost three months of this crap I realized I'm never going to be happy and that all dreams are futile and what's the point of living anyway and then I deep-sixed the whole thing.
|We could have been so happy.