It wasn’t all bad. The crazy stuff, I mean. I admit that I still find humor in the antics of my youth. While I admit to shaking my head in disapproval, I also admit the guilty pleasures and the laughs that were had at other people’s expense.
This is terrible. I know.
But true nonetheless.
My age and maturity have improved, somewhat. But I still laugh at dirty jokes. I laugh about silly things, and I do see the humor in things like the joke reels I see on social media. I laugh at the scare pranks and fall pranks too. I laugh at the friends scaring friends or wives scaring husbands, husbands scaring wives and, yes, there is a lighthearted side to me. Despite the recent times, my life is not all doom and gloom.
I was told that my writing sounds different from the way I speak.
And to this, I say I should hope so.
I am a normal everyday man. I have my little quirks. I do have a sense of humor and appreciate a good life.
I am a fan of bad movies. I admit to this.
In fact, I can say that I have watched the same horrible movie, countless times, and as terrible as it is, someone could ask me, “hey, did you ever see that movie,” and I would be like “of course. I’ve seen it a million times and it gets worse every time.”
In fact, rainy days like today are the best days for movies like this.
I am writing this to you on an early Sunday morning, cold and damp. Days like this are perfect to do nothing, but lay back, watch good/bad movies, take naps, and order in some food.
I admit that days like this are better spent with someone intimate, but when or if this is not possible or if this is not in the cards, romantically, then I would say days like today are perfect to disconnect from the rest of world.
Days like today are rainy and quiet, and these are the best days to make a good meal for yourself.
I do this. I put on some music and I let the mind turn off for a while.
I make a few meals to keep the day moving.
I like to share this with people I love.
I think there is nothing more loving than to share and provide a meal for someone you love, prepared by hand, and made from the heart.
I will never say that I am a good cook. I cannot follow recipes to save my life, and even when I have a recipe, I usually go rogue, and do things my own way.
I do okay.
I make sure I have lunch and dinner for a few days, which is why I try to make a few different dishes. And yes, I make a mess, but let me ask you, who is around to yell at me or tell me to do the dishes?
No one, that’s who.
But I promise to get around to them sooner or later.
I admit that my kitchen needs cleaning and so does the rest of my apartment. Today might be a good day for that. Either way, the day is Sunday, which has always been somewhat of a yellow day for me.
Sunday is still part of the weekend. At the same time, Sunday seems more like a half day.
Perhaps this is because Monday is the next day, which means work and all the weekday nonsense is on the way too. This means traffic, sitting on the railroad, or having to push my way through the subway, or walk down the street in Downtown, New York City.
So. . .
Rather than diving into the depths of emotions or thinking about heartbreak, or dealing with the pressing matters or the challenges up ahead, I think today is a better day for a good distraction.
I’ll clean. I won’t like it.
But I’ll do it.
I might not clean everything.
But I’ll get started.
I’ll start my day in a little while. I’ll be up, out of my seat, and out the door after this cup of coffee, and then I will make my way to the gym.
I look better.
I’m trying to, at least.
I will come home, eat something, and try to relax for a little bit. And then . . .
I will take to the bags of clothing that I need to get rid of. I’ll clean the kitchen, the bathroom, and my little living room.
I’ll play some music. I’ll walk away from the reels and the social media feeds which is a different epidemic altogether. I’ll put the world aside for the moment.
Next –
I have some chopped meat. I have some yellow rice. I have some tricks up my sleeve for a beef dish called beef picadillo.
I’m going to make a potato, corn chowder, with a little bit of heat, of course. Just a little spice to kick up some flavor. I start the soup with some bacon cut up in small pieces to get the smokey flavor, and then I add my secret stuff, which is good enough to call my secret recipe.
Either way –
Sometimes, there is no avoiding the inevitable. There is no changing what “is” and regardless of what we think or how we feel, life is still going to be life, and the unchangeable things will never be changed.
That’s it.
I suppose days like this are good to remind me that, hey, nothing is going away. Nothing is going to change. You’re at where you’re at. And this is what it is.
Might as well shut off the world for a while, disappear, and do something nice to pass the time.
I have these ideas which I call my dreams.
I have thoughts of doing this for you, and as I cook, you would be sitting with me in my kitchen, watching me walk around, smiling, happily, or maybe I’d be singing along with the music — and no, I do not have a commercially good singing voice; however, my singing suits me fine.
And so does yours, but like it says in the song “With a Little Help From My Friends,” I promise you, “I will try not to sing out of key.”
But you can sing, if you want to.
I won’t mind . . .
And you can dance too.
That’s what rainy days like this are for:
To shut off the world
To make the best of being inside
And to smile and laugh, until the day goes down.
And then it’s nighttime.
But nighttime is an intimate detail that’s better left for another chapter.
I promise.
The Written Addiction 