shrouded in should

September 16, 2008 Candace Morris 19 Comments

i really wish i would have grabbed my copy of Sylvia Plath's journals from my nightstand.
like i intended to
(by putting my cell phone on top of it)
which usually work - the visual ques i set up around me.
but not today, i guess.
oh no,
not today again.
(but oh man, i was very inspired and excited to share with you her amazing words from an entry i read last night. that, and i circled three words i was going to look up.
shoot.
damned it all to hell.)

moi, aujourd'hui:
full of churning acid in my estomago.
a highened sense of hyper-sensitivity and
a rebellion agianst others telling me to share.

share, like i know i should
i hate should.
"suck it, should!"

i should NOT want to have my controlling sausage-fingers on everything.
but i do.
i should NOT be so easily irritated at the irascibility of 66-year old cranky that i work with.
but i am.
i should not be so sensitive
or feel that there is not enough love to go around.
but in moments of weakness,
how i utterly forget.

i should be working on this damned spreadsheet.
but i hate it.
i should be happier with myself.
but i get to share this vice with all of womankind.
how boring.
turns out i am just like everyone else.
no beautiful or unique snowflake after all.

quelle tragique

Don't you just long to spend your day in Booklings? I sure do. I dream of wandering into work around 9am - wearing something I put together in my melancholic-chic way: (something like this, perchance?)I am sitting down to the mahagony, exchanging subdued morning hushes with Benjamin as he opens the bar...sipping earl grey and nibbling a scone for breakfast. I would then wander into my incredibly well-lit office (lighted is not the correct verb here) and sit at my antique desk to script a letter. Around 10am, the quirky and eccentric staff begin to arrive - including my spouse with our dog and/or child...whichever the cuter. The store buzzes with the beginnings of the day, accompanied joyously by the happy electronic sounds of The Junior Boys or, on rainy days - Air.

Ah, daydreams - mucho mejor que:
REALITY

thank the lord for sisters who come to meet you downtown and break you from the monotony and stress of your crabby boss; thank the lord for the promise of an evening meal with friends you consider family; thank the lord for grapes.

tell me, friends.
if you walked into booklings
heard the bell ringing with entrance...
where would you go?
what would you do?
come muse with me today.

if for no other reason than
you really should.


~mme. bookling
future owner of literary libations sold at BOOKLINGS.

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