Vacation Two: The Vegetation
The first snow of the season dumped itself on southern
Friday night: journey to Costco with housemate. This is admittedly a lame and domestic way to spend the first weekend of Vacation, but there’s a certain satisfying security in the knowledge “if civilization collapses tomorrow, we’ll have enough soap to last at least six months.” And I could trade the vacuum-packed whole-bean coffee for some chickens and start an urban egg farm, what the hell.
Saturday: stay home and vegetate.
Today: I’d already decided last night that I would go out today, as I’m given to understand that a totally hermetic existence is supposed to be psychologically unhealthy for reasons I largely disagree with. But I had to run a couple of errands anyway, so of course Mother Nature dumped damp slushy snow all over my town because she’s an abusive bitch who figures “If Jennifer wants to do psychologically healthy stuff, by God I’ll make her work for it.”
I am, at least, supposed to go visit friends in
If it snows again tonight I’ll go outside once everyone else is in bed, and see if I can’t hear the tiny sound of the falling snowflakes hitting the ones already on the ground. It’s one of the few Zen-style experiences I can seek out without going mad. Besides, Zen-like states of mind strike me as remarkably identical to pure vegetation, which is what I'm trying to avoid for the rest of the week. Unless it snows again.