The kitchen counter is filling up with stuff again. Unopened mail, picture frames lying on their backs, ipods and their snaking headphones, halloween candy, a confetti of crumbs, old gum from the bottom of my purse- peeling wrappered and crusty, a bowl of apples, a granite owl, two misplaced coasters and a thick metal bracelet spew across the granite countertop like the aftermath of a tsunami. I rip one of the envelops open and stare at the contents without inspiration. I suppose I should throw it away, but perhaps I should shred it. I don’t have a shredder. I could bring my mail to work and shred it there. Yes, that’s what I’ll do- so no reason to keep opening it here. I pile the long envelopes up neatly and pretend I’ll remember to put them in my purse tomorrow. <\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The dog and I walk under the EL for a few blocks. She doesn’t seem to mind the noise, and I enjoy it. The rattling roar hijacks my mind for a few seconds every few minutes. Sometimes I stare up at the passing train. The dog always manages to steer my shuffling feet towards the park, but I don’t mind because it’s narrow and full of trees and dogs. It’s a nice place to go. My preference is to just stand or sit watch the dogs play, and smile. But if I’m really happy or sad I’ll call someone, and chat on the phone. I try not to be one of those people who’s dog is misbehaving while they talk on the cell phone, not paying attention. Sometimes though, I am that person. <\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
When we get home, she wants chicken jerky and a drink of water. I stare at the kitchen counter again. I open the balcony door so I can hear the EL again. The dog pushes past me, out the balcony door and stands looking down on Grand Ave. Her tails wags lazily. I join her and we breath in the smell of chocolate and traffic. I like to watch the dog sniff the air like she’s watching an opera. She hears Tom come in the door before I do.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I step in from the balcony and the fading evening light and walk right into Tom’s smile. The dog dances around his legs, I’m flooded with hope. Every time I see him, I’m flooded with hope. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The kitchen counter is filling up with stuff again. Unopened mail, picture frames lying on their backs, ipods and their snaking headphones, halloween candy, a confetti of crumbs, old gum from the bottom of my purse- peeling wrappered and crusty, a bowl of apples, a granite owl, two misplaced coasters and a thick metal bracelet … Continue reading “Hope- Monday October 25”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2224","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2224","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2224"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2224\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3475,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2224\/revisions\/3475"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2224"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2224"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2224"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}