Dirty Martini

A wonderful Sunday has transpired here. Yardwork complete (well, the front garden, anyway) and my other obligations met,
I'm sitting down now with the dregs of a dirty Ketel One Martini (w/blue cheese stuffed olives) and feeling pretty good. I got a check from Gulf Coast for fifty bucks for the poem they published. Thanks, Gulf Coast. I am now a paid poet. For whatever that's worth. It feels good, though.

I cleaned all three fish tanks and gave everyone a good water change, so I don't feel guilty anymore when the fish look at me sideways. Cash got a five mile walk this morning, out Rodeo grounds, across the highway, up through the woods and down to the beach, then back through town to home. A beautiful day all around. Sun, wind, blue skies. The motorcycles are droning through town, coming back from the Laguna Seca races, but other than that our little burg is quiet and slow.

Someone said something to me the other day, a small matter, but it got under my skin. I worried and worried it, knowing there was no point to it but not really willing to let go of it. The more I fussed over it, the funnier I was to myself. I can really take myself pretty seriously sometimes, especially when I deny that I am doing so. Ego is a subtle and confounding opponent. When you vanquish him, he will appear behind you, congratulating you for your victory and telling you how wonderfully ego-free you are!

Ha.

Only days left in this lifetime. For each of us. This particular one, I noticed. This particular one I had gratitude for.

How many I have squandered already. How many left.

Presence. Awareness. Gratitude.


Dirty Martinis.




Ahhhh.....