God in small things

Kate’s in Bloomington visiting her dying grandfather. They say he’s already been sedated. It’s the right thing to do, she says. Visiting him.


We race a 1/2 marathon tomorrow morning at 7.30am in St. Croix Falls. We signed up and paid already and everything. We’ve been training since April. Write workouts on the calendar. I’m training for the TC Marathon in October. Kate says she’ll stick with the half. It’s probably the wiser decision. But I have this thirst to push push push, to stretch the elastic hairband until it snaps.


I dropped off two resumes and two cover letters at Black Sheep Coffee this morning. One set or me and one set for Mouse. It’s comical, even to me, that all this law school and grad school education I have acquired still only amounts to being a barista. I mean it doesn’t. It amounts to a JD and MFA degree. And these degrees could be used to get a job as a lawyer or college professor, respectively. And it’s my choice to apply as a part-time barista. That’s comical to me.

It means, I think, and I’m still working on this theory, that there’s sort of multiple realities. Terrence McKenna says something like the body is the placenta of the soul. Which I take to mean that, in the end, all the education isn’t what I thought it would be. It’s close. It walks like a dog and barks like a dog. But the idea of suiting up each day, and walking into a law office, and siting down in a swivel chair and all that, climbing the ladder. It’s not the dog. I guess the dog is justice and thinking and making wrongs right. I mean there’s elements and hints of that. But mostly the dog is weighed down and genetically modified into a dead dog, or a dog lying so still on the couch that he appears dead.


Another way of saying what I want to say is that there’s a whisper tiny sh sh sh little baby inner voice barely audible that I can sometimes hear inside my head. Of course I also have a maniacal selfish jealous controlling bastard of a blah blah blah voice inside my head. So it’s loud and I rarely hear that woosh woosh. But it’s the woosh woosh that’s magical.


I took the dog for a post Fage yogurt with Ezekiel and baked apple and roasted pecan two-mile run. I stopped at one of those little libraries that are sprinkled all over South Saint Paul and found a book with a green spine entitled “The Man Who Quit Money.” I’m only a few pages in.


My grandmother has been relocated from New York to Texas. My dad’s mom. He and his sisters are amidst a sibling feud, it appears. I could make sides and play my hand of obscenities. Grandma told me I could have her 2003 Honda Accord, but then my aunt unilaterally sold it. Well she didn’t actually sell it, I bet. Just said she did. Which is fishy. But not like real fish. Becimesause there’s nothing at all wrong with fish, Fishy like the fake fish oil pills that CVS and Walgreens and Walmart peddle. But I don’t give enough of a damn to take the hose and spray my aunt with cold water. Sell the car if you want. Part of it is I’m so tired from the move and this Minnesota summer cold. Part of it is the logic of choose your battles. Part of it is I really like my aunt and I think sometimes people act like shits.


Each day, the baby wakes up and makes the house a little more of a disaster. And each day Kate and I get up, and we try to organize organize organize, make the house a little less of a disaster. Because there are two parents and one child, the tide of organization and tidiness generally rises over the well of empty the drawers, scatter the things. But still. Parenting is tough. And by tough I mean very specifically the number of times that you put the tupperware (and empty yogurt containers we use as tupperware even though we bought a second set of Pyrex tupperware from Target) back into the second drawer to the right of the kitchen sink.


I thought I left my grey flat brim hat at the beach after swimming in Lake Harriet. I figured I probably left it there in the confusion of hypothermia. So I ordered another one from eBay. Only 6.95. Free shipping. I’ve never owned anything camo before, so I chose the same size in camo. It came yesterday and I tried it on and it was much to large. Even though it says it’s the same size as the grey one. I wrote them a message on eBay and they never wrote back so I resent the message and the never wrote back again and I’m like ugh it’s only 6.95 and buyer beware but still. Make your hats better. I found my grey hat. It wasn’t at the beach like I thought. It was behind the couch. Always check behind the couch.

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