Could it be? I mean they’re already cramming Halloween down our throats and we know what’s next. The minute a leaf turns a faint color of anything besides green it’s somehow officially fall and then here comes Santa.
I’m tired. I’ve been tired lately and I thought at first it was because I switched a bunch of my medications, but now I just think I’m tired of a lot of things. I don’t want to be rushed. I really, really dislike being rushed. I walk with a limp and I can’t tell you the number of folks that hit the back of my shoes because they are literally at my heels. So I move over and let them pass, this happens almost every time I shop and oddly enough often as I exit church. Not sure where the fire is on Sundays but get out-of-the-way. So I walk slow because I have to now but I’m used to it, I’m okay with it, but the world is not. Have I mentioned I hate feeling rushed?
Yeah, and I saw a guy with the biggest Santa beard driving a Buick really fast. He looked perfect for the part and I wondered if he was growing it out for the role or if it’s his usual look. Yet I’m sure there are some dudes packing on the pounds claiming it’s all for art and soon will be applying for work at malls across the land, but I just want it to be September for now. Then comes the gorgeous, crisp fall with all the special things included in it. That’s as far ahead as I’m willing to go. Please, enough rushing. Being a slow poke I now embrace being pokey, you make do when you can’t feel your foot inside your shoe. Sometimes I walk with a cane, when I take a stroll I belong in the emergency lane with my blinkers on but so far I can’t find that path. Instead I hear some sighing, an occasional “excuse me” but mostly just feel my hair blowing as folks pass me by.
Really, unless it’s life or death or you really are Santa having confused a Buick for Rudolph, then what’s the hurry?