Monday, 28 June 2010

Forty two

We met at the lights, he a sharp turn right across my onwards to catch my gaze at the turn of the green. Party, on a Monday? Oh yeah you're a free one, Mondays mean anydays and whatever sleeps you like. I told him I didn't fancy it, going home to have a think. Going home to have a think? Like I've got something to say on that matter, something to wonder and believe in? What happened? It was a pretty regular day, though I am rather enjoying my reborn swimming hobby. Water seems important, the sun something else.

So yes works a test, boring, and now it's fucking hot to boot and I'm making really really basic adding up mistakes. And getting angry at the cute flat white who just ripped his other ankle tendon, sorry, sorry, I think you're cute and your son leaves biscuits in your pockets and I do that too and I'm just not sure what drink you're asking me for. He apologised over and again, fetched his odd drinks, apologised again. A peppered real thing in the length of a show day. A guy who 'works for the conservatives' wanted to work here just cus we looked cool. Maybe he was right last night, it is a bit of a golden ticket.

I'm torn. I'm so so torn. One day I'm going to pack it all in and move to San Fransisco, the next I'm just putting in a mezzanine please, the next I'm seeing a room in a homely home, and suddenly googling Laban courses. Er, where is my motivation? Something, I don't know what, something dark and pongy lured me into Mysteries, a shop I've managed to avoid for almost two years. I browsed the divination books and went swimming. After lengths of weighing up the pros and implications of a tarot reading with Tanalise or whoever, luck (er?) was it that she'd knocked off for the day. I left with an i ching book to go with my spinach and ricotta roll.

I love the secret park. I'm not going to name it because I don't want you to go there. I sat on the wooden bench as though in a glade, throwing three ten p's on pastry bags in some ridiculously spiritual manner. Suddenly I was nervous. He saw me at the lights, cut across me to catch my attention, I swerved left. What have you been up to, he asked, philosophy class on the meaning of life, I said. Forty two, he replied. Really, I amazed, sounding sarcastic and false. I wondered at the coincidence of it being my first ever i ching reading, the counter reading of my progression at this stage being 21. My change is equal to half the meaning of life. Hmmmm. Absurd.

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