From Where I Sit

I’m sitting my chair, the comfortable one with the multi patterned cloth, light browns and dark reds mixed together with a little bit of green that completes the aesthetic trifecta. Why do you care about the chair from which I’m currently writing my blog? You probably shouldn’t and in fact I don’t expect you to, but given my lacking ability to come up with anything of remote interest to write, I’ve decided to take the easy way out today, and write about what I’m doing at this very moment. I realize that it’s completely lazy and a total cop out, but my determination to keep the daily blog going, even on days when the ideas aren’t flowing, outweighs my concern with this not being a very interesting post. There is a clear glass jar, about a third of the way full with candy corn, sitting on one of our red bar stools, which is one hundred percent more than either my wife or myself have ever sat on them.

My mom and grandmother brought the candy corn for us when they came to visit the Sunday before thanksgiving. It was a nice gesture that was very much appreciated, unfortunately the adult version of myself doesn’t feel the same way about candy corn like I used to, hence the partially filled jar seven months later. I look up at the TV, which is currently playing American Pickers, my wife’s new favorite show. At first I wasn’t really into it but the more I’m exposed to it, the more I’m getting into it, which is pretty dangerous as it’s causing me a great deal of distraction at the moment while I try to write this blog. I see the air mattress propped up against and covering the fireplace. This is where my brother-in-law sleeps. Yep, my wife’s twenty-eight year old brother lives with us, at least for now, but that’s a story for another time.

I see the dogs, both with their paws up on the couch, looking more pitiful than ever, most likely trying to coax away some of the chicken that my wife is eating. There is a bowl full of dog food five feet away, but perhaps dogs, like people, can never be happy, always striving for more. I spot two fidget spinners sitting on the end table, further evidence of our house guest. I’m sure I come across as the old fart here, but I don’t get why people are so into these things. I spun the thing once and it gave me as much satisfaction as putting a roll of paper towels into the cart at the grocery store. All of our pictures are on the floor leaning up against the wall. No, we didn’t just paint or anything, we just haven’t gotten around to hanging the pictures up yet, and we’ve been living here for a year. When we renewed our lease for another year, I mentioned to my wife that we really should hang up our stuff, but so far we are yet to even talk about it again, so there’s a good chance it probably won’t happen. That doesn’t really matter, but guess what does? I just finished writing and kept the daily blog alive.

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