the sordid tale of the pants

Hole -- in pants -- the pants I wear every day without fail to work and to court and to all places my legs must go modestly clad -- hole in back of pants. Oh my.

After utilizing scotch tape, I wore them anyway.

But now I need
New Pants
or Patched Pants
or a body that does not require clothing. That, of course, is the eternal ideal. Thanks, Adam. Stupid original sin and now no one gets to be naked EVER. Nor do we get to live in what was probably the most supremely amazing garden in the entire world.

---

Things that are happening right now that I wish would stop happening:

1. The child who, as certain as a metronome and just as vile and pointless, is pinging a metal ball against a metal table and staring all bored at his brother...

2. Inciting his brother into an epileptic seizure of activity. Must run! Must squeal! Must stomp around and cast paper to the ground! Must do this all in a coffee shop! DIVE DIVE DIVE!

3. Coffee. Why am I still drinking coffee? I can feel my DNA tightening into an even more helixy double helix.

4. Child #2 telling me what he's doing from second to second and giggling all crazy whenever I glare at him.

5. Perhaps I should stop hating the future of the world. It's playing peekaboo with me using a copy of The New Yorker. Kind of endearing actually. Cheeky cultured brat, I will not let you beguile me with your native charm and the fact that you're about 5 years old and need to wear glasses(a-dorable).

6. Child #1 kicking the couch I'm sitting on. Dear God, stop! Why are you like this? What sort of horrible trauma are you repressing right now that makes you act this way?! Stop kicking the bleepity bleep couch.

7. Time -- just in general. Stopit.

8. I want THIS to stop happening too. I don't know how this makes you feel. It makes me feel anger and sadness and nausea and as if perhaps we live in a cruel small world that suffers and sobs and is not heard very often by people who should be listening.

---

After a late night (2 a.m. ish?) and a morning wherein I could not sleep past 6:30 (technically, after a week of getting up at 4 or 4:30, 6:30 is sleeping in to my confused body), I decided to go hiking. Somehow got down a steep slide zone without killing myself. My legs were shaking. Not a good sign. I cut the expedition short and instead spent a good half hour sitting on a piece of driftwood someone set up like a bench atop a rocky outcrop. I watched the sea lions leap in and out of the waves, staggering their above-water appearances so that it looked like a sea monster was undulating and uncoiling out in the ocean.