Random Ramblings
So I've decided that one way to overcome the intertia of not being able to figure out exactly what I want to do is to just do something. In this case, just write something. Anything. Without worrying about whether it is THE topic I should write about or THE best writing or any of that stuff. Just write, all other things be damned.
I saw a raccoon last night when I came back from the store. It looked right into my headlights as I pulled into the parking space, about ten yards away. It looked confused for a moment, and then hesitated, and then finally scurried off. It reminded me of the time just about a week ago when I was similarly coming back from the store (but still on the road, not the lot) and saw what appeared to be a mother and baby raccoon dead on the side of the road. It made me sad, in part because I think I ran into the same mother and baby on the way to the mailbox a couple weeks before that. I had been coming around the corner of the community building over there and it was a surprise for all three of us. The mom hissed at me a bit as I slowly backed off, trying to say nice soothing things to it. She seemed pacified by my gesture, and I went on to the mailbox unharmed. What's the point of writing all this? There is none. Just something I've been thinking about.
I saw a raccoon last night when I came back from the store. It looked right into my headlights as I pulled into the parking space, about ten yards away. It looked confused for a moment, and then hesitated, and then finally scurried off. It reminded me of the time just about a week ago when I was similarly coming back from the store (but still on the road, not the lot) and saw what appeared to be a mother and baby raccoon dead on the side of the road. It made me sad, in part because I think I ran into the same mother and baby on the way to the mailbox a couple weeks before that. I had been coming around the corner of the community building over there and it was a surprise for all three of us. The mom hissed at me a bit as I slowly backed off, trying to say nice soothing things to it. She seemed pacified by my gesture, and I went on to the mailbox unharmed. What's the point of writing all this? There is none. Just something I've been thinking about.