Refuse to be Passive

A March Morning– This Is Life Pt 2

In Uncategorized on March 11, 2012 at 7:24 pm

She takes  a break from her  walk up Ronsconsvales, plunking herself down on a wooden park bench after a quick scan to ensure she won’t be sitting in anything unsavory. She looks around, taking in her surroundings. People are out en masse, some walking their dogs, others walking themselves. Jackets are removed and slung over arms. The day is bright, sunny, and very nearly warm. It’s the first day of Spring, although winter is likely to rear its head a few more times before the spring weather is here to stay. She loves to people watch, noticing the different styles of dress, walk, and emotion. But it also makes her notice that she’s on her own, just like always. She has no significant other, no kindred spirit with which to walk, not even a dog for companionship. To be honest, she doesn’t want the dog. Dogs are pretty to look at, but a pain to live with. They’re needy, they slobber, they crap on the floor if you don’t take them out often enough, they’re not usually terribly well behaved and have a tendency to get terribly loud. It’s like having a toddler perpetually. At least with actual toddlers they grow out of it. And even if she had a dog that was exquisitely behaved, the entire concept of picking up their crap is off-putting.

A well groomed woman walks past the bench on which Aurora is enjoying the sun. The woman has some sort of poodle crossbreed with her. Clearly there is some form of attraction to having a dog. What it is she cannot fathom. And then there are the vet bills, the feeding bills, and the general expenses dogs incur. If you’re going to have  a pet, why not opt for a cat? They’re independent, walk themselves, are noble looking animals, tend not to be overly loud, take great pride in cleanliness, and yet still provide companionship. They still sense when you’re blue and need some comfort, just like a dog. They’re just not as high maintenance.

Enough of that, though. She gets up from the wooden bench and pulls out her cell phone to check the time. 12:52. The family should leave in about two hours, that means she’s still got some time to kill outside in this glorious weather before she heads home to read a book in the quiet of an empty house for the evening. And then cleaning her room also needs to be done. She grimaces. She’d forgotten about that. It’s a disaster between the excessive amounts of paper that seem to bloom in that space and the clothing that is piling up on the floor due to a broken washer and lack of a laundry basket. It looks like shopping for laundry baskets may be taking the next couple hours of her sunny afternoon. Maybe she can find a local place. It’s always better to go local when possible. Oh, and she needs letter writing paper for writing her grandparents. She starts mentally making a list—laundry basket, stationary, organizational folders for her copious amounts of paper. She feels like something is missing. It’ll come to her in time, probably once she gets home again. She heads north, in search of the items on her list and mulling over the best way to drag them home with her.

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