Worms are people, too, gang!
Well, okay -- no, they're not. But they are among God's many awesome and somehow inexplicable creatures. And when they're doing that squirmy-wormy thing they do, they're among God's living creatures and so my heart goes out to them.
Last night, it must have torrentially downpoured in my neighborhood b/c this morning, when I went outside for my walk at 7 AM, the sidewalks were littered with squirming worms. I wanted to pick them up and carefully put them back onto everybody's lawns, you know? But even I know when it's time to let go of that impulse to rescue. It would have taken me all day to do that. Plus, I live on a really busy street, so a lot of people would have seen me doing it. (Neighbor to other neighbor: "Look, it's that crazy lady from that little house down at the end of the road. What the fuck is she doing now?" "I don't know, but she's been at it for hours.") So on I walked.
Until I got to that part of my walk where I go into the areas of my neighborhood that have no sidewalks and I have to walk in the road. And lo & behold, the roads were full of worms trying to squirm to the other side. It was, like, -- OMG; I have to just turn around and go home. I can't handle this. You know, I had to just stare down at the road the whole time so that I wasn't stepping on any of them but now and then, a soccer mom in her SUV would come rolling by and then, yeeks, the fucking schoolbus! It was a horror. Really. It was, like, you know -- Jesus, help me; I can't stand this!
But eventually I made my way to a busier road and it had far fewer worms & they were easier to miss. But still. I take these walks b/c I need to seriously de-stress pretty much everyday; not add to my stress load and the sheer inexplicable horror of living, right?
Then I went down what is usually my favorite little street in the summertime and up ahead in the road, I saw what appeared to be the largest worm I had ever seen in my life. Like it had been around since 1947, or something like that, and was just now encountering the light of day. I tried to make myself just not look at it; just keep moving. But when I got up close, thank god, it was just some kid's old shoelace that had been rained on all night. Thank heavens for small miracles, right?
Last night, it must have torrentially downpoured in my neighborhood b/c this morning, when I went outside for my walk at 7 AM, the sidewalks were littered with squirming worms. I wanted to pick them up and carefully put them back onto everybody's lawns, you know? But even I know when it's time to let go of that impulse to rescue. It would have taken me all day to do that. Plus, I live on a really busy street, so a lot of people would have seen me doing it. (Neighbor to other neighbor: "Look, it's that crazy lady from that little house down at the end of the road. What the fuck is she doing now?" "I don't know, but she's been at it for hours.") So on I walked.
Until I got to that part of my walk where I go into the areas of my neighborhood that have no sidewalks and I have to walk in the road. And lo & behold, the roads were full of worms trying to squirm to the other side. It was, like, -- OMG; I have to just turn around and go home. I can't handle this. You know, I had to just stare down at the road the whole time so that I wasn't stepping on any of them but now and then, a soccer mom in her SUV would come rolling by and then, yeeks, the fucking schoolbus! It was a horror. Really. It was, like, you know -- Jesus, help me; I can't stand this!
But eventually I made my way to a busier road and it had far fewer worms & they were easier to miss. But still. I take these walks b/c I need to seriously de-stress pretty much everyday; not add to my stress load and the sheer inexplicable horror of living, right?
Then I went down what is usually my favorite little street in the summertime and up ahead in the road, I saw what appeared to be the largest worm I had ever seen in my life. Like it had been around since 1947, or something like that, and was just now encountering the light of day. I tried to make myself just not look at it; just keep moving. But when I got up close, thank god, it was just some kid's old shoelace that had been rained on all night. Thank heavens for small miracles, right?
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