I would put more thought into this post if I didn't have to go to work in 28 minutes. There is a desire to in my fingers, since my fingers have a mind of their own and even their own name. Some fingers even have a 9-5 job in order to support their growing family, a family who lives in a pleasant finger suburb. Sure, it looks pleasant on the outside, but inside the small community, a darkness is beginning to creep into the streets and up into the trees. It's a darkness that clashes with the purity of the white picket fences and the manicured lawns. The darkness is a weed, growing out of control and killing what was once beautiful and fragrant. Just kidding. What the hell am I typing? Again, don't ask me. Ask my fingers.
Sooo I just want to type right now. Allow me to have this one indulgence. I promise I have something more "put together" in the works. But I don't want to rush it. There is a pleasure I receive from seeing a post published. Like, it makes me feel as if I have done something with my day. I am a truly productive person! Sure, I may not contribute to any kind of society, but at least I am, uh... I am. I am I am? I am I am the great Sam I am? Green eggs and ham? Green Megs and Han. Meghan. Meggham. Scrambled Megs.
You know what? I miss human connection. I miss sitting on a roof at 2 in the morning having a conversation with another person about something deeply philosophical and profound, something I've never done before. Okay, I did it a few times, probably, but I'm sure it wasn't at 2 in the morning and we were most likely discussing our favorite Saved by the Bell episodes (which are all of them). So maybe I want to talk with humans again, face-to-face. And I want to not sit on a roof, because that's dangerous, but sit in a park or a cafe with great windows and at least decent coffee and chat about whatever pops into our head (roofs! books! religion! that time Zack literally put ants down Slater's Hammer pants!). And although I don't usually like to be touched, sometimes it would be groovy to be hugged by a dreamy person. Hugged for a good, awkward 47 seconds or more.
I guess it's time to step out from behind this protective screen. Maybe I can occasionally show my face in public! Maybe I can make an effort to make it to social events or to make (and keep) plans with friends. Maybe I can recognize that I already am making an effort and to give myself credit for whatever progress I make, no matter how small it may seem. Maybe maybe maybe. Maybe it's time right now, however, to go to work and to stop kids from throwing spaghetti at other kids. Hey, as long as they don't dump any ants down any pants, all will be well.