Monday, November 17, 2008 | By: Dusty Taylor

Reflections....are such a bitch sometimes.


After my morning "Hippie Speedball" and slopping of the hogs (otherwise known as feeding the felines), I sit down at the computer and begin to read my news emails. They go into their very own little file on my email program Thunderbird.

I get roughly 150 of them a day. I shit you not. It's a sickness I do readily admit that. Do not chastise me for it ok?

I start to scan the headlines of specific news agencies first and then it happens. My mind starts to go off on it's own tangent. A phrase, a graphic, sometimes...just a word will set it all in motion.

Its my job damn it, to blog the bullshit and I must make my appointed rounds of the news media outlets. Many times that is the only reason I have to get out of the sack in the morning. It really pisses me the hell off that my mind won't focus on the task at hand. So I fight it.

I end up losing more times than not. But this morning, my first morning waking up in my own bed after a week of sleeping in other people's beds like Goldi-fucking-locks...I just went with it. I leaned back in my leather chair with the special lumbar support and sighed...allowing my mind to go where it wanted.

It wanted to think about change..of scenery. My mind wanted to think about that long cross-country trip I want to make. Alone. Yes, alone..I want to be able to go where and when I feel like it as I see America and Blogger's I have come to know and love. This isn't an unusual feeling or emotion for me....taking off for parts unknown.

I usually spend no more than five years in any one state. As an adult I have lived all over these here United States of America. I drug my son from CA to VA and back again. Then we moved to GA where he cleaned out my bank account and stole my car in the dead of night..in the middle of a violent rainstorm..but I digress.

I was traveling again, in my mind. I was seeing the different people and places I long to go. The Grand Canyon, Arches National Park, the Louisiana Bayou, the canyons of New York City, the spanish moss of GA.

Then I heard my ball and chain padding down the hall, his glasses perched on his nose and the newspaper firmly in his right hand. He was heading to the crapper to take up residence for as long as I allowed him to...before I banged on the door and asked him if he signed a lease on that room.

He stopped for a split second, looked up and said; "I am glad your home baby."

I said; "Me too sweetcheeks."

And I meant it. I adore the ball and chain. He has kept me stationary longer than any man or job or circumstance ever has in my entire adult life. The man should be sainted because he is my rudder because I am a miserable bitch to live with when I get itchy feet every six months or so.

So I stood up and demanded he come here immediately, kissed his bald spot and whispered "I love you" in his ear.

And he got that beautiful smile on his face that just melts my tension away.

And the sumbitch is still in the damn bathroom as I type this, 20 minutes later. ;p

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