The Months Pass Quickly

The months pass quickly now, it seems.  It is spring.  Several couples in the neighborhood are pregnant of a sudden.  It is surprising.  I've lived here long enough to watch kids grow up and become parents, parents to become grandparents.  Now the cycle begins again.  I am bone dry, devoid of ideas or motivation.  I haven't taken a photograph other than my iPhone porch pictures in months.  My cameras lay untouched.  It is time to go places and see things while the world is still viewable, but I remain a slave to routine.  Stockholm syndrome.  The coffee is good.  The maids keep the house clean.  I have books and premium t.v. channels.  Grocery stores, museums, good restaurants, banks, the Boulevard--all are no more than two miles from my home.  A bit further and I am in Gotham.  The garden grows but needs tending, and then there is the cat. . . .  I have a new deck and the house gets pressure washed on Monday.  

I don't really have the clothes for travel.  

Etc.  

If I don't go somewhere, I will soon be enshrouded.  I am as I was in childhood, always good at pretending.  I told you already, I never enjoyed doing the thing as much as having done it.  

And yet, I've inspired multitudes.  It is true.  I've had an oversized effect for someone so insignificant.  People expect that I will continue on ad infinitum.  

It is impossible, of course.  My body is broken.  My mind is worn.  

Maybe if I just get out with a camera today, I think, it will spark some interest.  It might motivate me toward bigger things.  

But I get tired.  I take naps.  

Maybe if I quit napping.  

But I get tired when the sun goes down.  

Maybe if I make plans to go out.  

Yes, yes. . . if I had more money, it would be easier.  I have to live so close to the vest these days, and I can no longer sleep in flophouses and on floors.  A room with a view, you know. . . I should have planned. 

Don't be daft.  It's a beautiful day.  Do something.  

I need to order the mulch.  Once that is delivered, I will spread it.  Then. . . . 

The months pass quickly now, it seems.  The good weather will soon give way.  I should go and see things while I can.