For some reason I opened the door. It wasn't even my house. I was dogsitting at my friend's apartment & I answered the doorbell. Maybe it was because I was unable to pretend I wasn't there. I knew immediately where the conversation was going when I first laid eyes on the two women. One white, one black, both middle-aged (whatever that means) and both well-dressed with short, 'stylish' haircuts.

"We're doing volunteer work and we're just going around asking people in the neighborhood if they'd like to see peace on earth. Would you like to see peace on earth, Ma'am?"

I hesitated and finally decided on, "Sure."

"Do you feel that peace on earth is actually attainable in this day and age?"

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see won't we?"

"Do you read the bible because...," I could have sworn her hands we empty when I opened the door, but suddenly she was flipping through her bible to a marked page.

"I'm not interested right now, have a good night."

"Actually, I'd just like to read you a passage from..."

"Have a good night," I repeated as though she didn't hear me the first time. I shut the door.

By the time I walked back up the stairs to the second-floor apartment it occurred to me that if people stopped imposing their beliefs on other people, the world would be a much more peaceful place.

If the 'blog' is neglected,
is the 'self' neglected?










Hardly. I earn a solid low version of a five figure salary and these past two weeks have been a carnival of vacation-flavored slothness unlike anything I've ever tasted. Scuffing around wanting to do anything but clean my apartment while trapped in my abode due to the fact that I rear-ended someone within the first few hours of my vacation. The money I was going to spend on vacation bliss is now very well spent to repair someone else's pick-up truck that I unintentionally love-tapped. F*ck!

The very first two-week vacation of my lifetime career of having a career was sideswiped by my own personal desire to feel sorry for myself. Selfish? Maybe. Satisfying in some weird sick way? Yes. I was left with only two options: build a time machine or pay for damages. I quickly realized a time machine cannot be built in two weeks. So I've decided to thank my lucky stars that the man I rear-ended didn't experience debilitating neck injuries.

Back to work today for the first time in two weeks. The vacation expired, only too soon. And here I am... feeling the need to post for the first time in weeks. Coincidence? Perhaps. Fate? Most likely.

Would it be too obvious if I made the correlation between 'blogging' and spending most of the days of my life working for someone else's modest six-figure salary?

photo by: LL