A Quiet Racket

​It’s late in the afternoon and I’m just typing to be typing. With nothing particularly pressing on my mind. That’s because I’m not allowing anything to press upon my mind because it’s time to get off work. Which couldn’t be anymore ironic sense I’m retired and no longer have a nine to five job. But that doesn’t mean I don’t cook the meals, and make sure the rent’s paid, and the lights stay on. Along with all the driving and doctor appointments I keep for everyone. But they say there are people out there that can do those jobs and I’m sure it pays okay. So where the hell’s my money?

While I hear the PGA Championship blaring through the walls - and the upstairs neighbors kids pounding on the floor/my ceiling - I’m reminded that none of us are here alone. That’s when everyone comes out of the woodwork to bother you. But that’s okay I’ve grown more than used to this, other than not having an outside to escape too. So you take the good with the bad as I bitch about the racket with the AC blowing a cool 75°. Plus the running hot water, the dishwasher, and the washer and dryer aren’t too bad either.

You learn to put up with a few inconveniences just to live in the same century as everyone else. It’s just that my life is being overrun by the same thing I keep wanting to have…a boring routine. It seems no sooner than I get my wish, that I’m already looking for the next bright and shiny thing. But such as it is in a free market society. Where consumerism is the only thing keeping the squeaky wheel turning. I realize that I’m no better than anyone else. So I keep my mouth shut just as long as I get a slice of the pie. But here lately it seems I’m having to make a lot more concessions just to satisfy the twisted morals of a chosen few. So while the rights of many are taken away, the consequences of those actions are a price the chosen few think I’m willing to pay.