Yellow Paint

It's the stupid shit that gets to me. Today, in one of my cleaning rants, I decided that I had to get rid of all of the unwearable clothes and take them to charity. But in doing so, I became acutely aware of how originally I'd planned to really clean up the spare room/office just in case. I was going to have additional outlets placed in for electrical appliances and buy a table for the printer and these sorts of things because I wanted to prepare the room. I had visions of sea horses and night stars and colored lamps and polka dot rugs and the thought that I neededn't bother suddenly brought me to the verge of tears.

I wonder if this is what life will be like for me now or at least until the next hopeful jaunt? Constant jolts of what could be or what might have been.

People have children in part, to add meaning to their own lives, to give what has been imparted to them and to hope that the next generation goes farther. Without that hope or that perspective suffering seems inevitable. How, then, do I reconcile the present situation? A lot of cheap red wine and a few copies of People magazine?