T
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he unofficial end to summer has come and gone. The kids are
back in school, the restaurants slow down, and the weather will be back to
garbage before we know it. It’s been a hell of a summer in so many facets. This
has been the summer of achievement.
Just over three months ago, my girlfriend and I purchased a
house together in the middle of nowhere, in the hopes that it would be a good
move. Living out here has many benefits like cheaper real estate, less crime,
and unobtrusive tranquility. The cons list is shorter but features some
important items like the long drive to work and the distance from my family. In
the beginning—and it is arguable that we are still in the beginning—I pondered
frequently if I had made the right decision, but I kept getting daily reminders
from my lady and her girls that this is exactly where I want to be. We lucked
out having neighbors in every direction with children near the ages of the
girls and they made fast friends with a few of them. The kids are happy, mamma
is happy, I am happy.
Today, the seven-year-old walked us up to her new bus stop
for the first time to catch a ride to her first day at a new school. We were
all up at about 6am—pretty late for me—getting everything ready for the big
day. Second grade; I can only vaguely remember bits and pieces of my grade
school experience, but I think this is where I stopped developing
mathematically, and I look forward to picking up where I left off when I help
her with homework every night.
Like I did last year, I make her lunch every night as I’m
making dinner for everybody. It’s a small part of a routine that is made up of
so many pieces. Kids are a lot of work, and I feel as if I have stepped up to
the challenge with caution but aplomb. I cut the crust off of the bread, and I
only add cheese if she specifically asks for it. I sneak in a little something
like gummy vitamins or a Hatchimal or a note whenever I find the time, and she
seems to respond with happiness and smiles when she comes home. It’s the little
things, as they say. But there are so many
little things.
T
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he cold season is coming sooner than we think. This means it’s
time to start thinking about projects. Realistically, I don’t know how to do
any projects so this will either be the winter of the apocalypse, or the winter
where I watch a lot of YouTube videos on how to use a hammer. We still have a
few painting projects to be completed, and we would like to figure out
something to do with the floor in the basement. I want to put more insulation
in the attic, and I would like to remodel the bathroom. The bathroom is a few
years out, but I want it know that I would prefer not to have pink tile in any
of the rooms in this house.
A
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nd finally, three nights ago, I had a vivid dream. I was
standing on the deck of a vibrantly colored outdoor restaurant with two
friends. One of them I couldn’t see, and the other was Anthony Bourdain. We
were laughing and reminiscing as if we were lifelong friends. Anthony and I
stepped off of the deck onto the dew-covered grass and walked off toward a
playground. He stepped up onto the platform for the monkey bars and I turned
toward him. His profile was framed by the smoke from the grills in the
background and the sun beat down on his salt-and-pepper locks. I locked eyes
with him and said, “I know you’re dead. And I know why.”
The corners of his lips tended upwards as he looked to the
ground. I knew I had hurt him, but it had to be said. His clothes crumpled and
fell to the ground as his body took the shape of a snake and he slithered away.
He was one with the earth again, and I was standing in the middle of a coil of pulsing
snakes.
The quantity of snakes in the dream is the most significant
aspect according to the internet. The magnitude along with somebody dying is
all representative of substantial change in my life. It also symbolizes an
abundance of energy that I have not tapped into. Incidentally, the snakes were
all green which indicates health and fertility. So, I have that going for me,
which is nice.