There are lovely little pink blossoms on my peach tree and they are totally meaningless on such a day as this. Maybe they want me to be excited....but it's gray and cold and flowers are absurd today. ABSURD. Here's how they make me feel:
You know how when you just had a bad breakup....like just thirty minutes ago and all you want to do is sit on the couch and drink too much and eat ice cream in your fuzzy socks and pajama pants and contemplate your own slow, sad slide to the grave, alone, dirty shuffling through life with your flavored brandy and too many cats because the love of your life just left you for that girl with the pink hair that works at the deli by the tattoo parlor and your life is over and all that crap.....and your super perky friend with the perfect life comes by because she knows the pink haired girl's best friend's sister and she found out about your breakup almost before you did... and she proceeds to tell you that your ex sucked and that you were always too good for him anyway and how six months from now you will be happy this happened and you and your ex both had big noses and your children would have been ugly anyway....and you want to kill her because....YOU DON'T WANT TO BE HAPPY IN SIX MONTHS...YOU WANT TO BE HAPPY RIGHT NOW...AND YOU WANTED THIS TO WORK AND NO YOU DON'T WANT TO GO TO THE GYM AND SHOPPING AND GO ON A DETOX DIET....you just want to sit on your couch in your crappy pajamas and fuzzy socks and shuffle around in your ratty purple housecoat covered in cat hair and just slide into oblivion and abandon all hope of a happy life....
THAT my friends is how these absurd peach buds make me feel with their vague promise of Spring. I don't want spring tomorrow. I want it today like a four year old wants Christmas on Christmas eve. I can't wait. Do you see those tiny little flowers? There should be fat-bottomed bumble bees becoming deliriously tipsy as they fly impossibly from flower to flower. There should be an early butterfly or two buffeted ever so slightly by a gentle breeze...a warm breeze. I should be sitting on my porch drinking a cool drink while the sun bakes its way into my bones, watching my elderly dog roll in the dirt, and I should be doing this because I have spent the day planting the garden and weeding around the roses. When I have rested, I should be languidly wandering from one stand of bulbs to another awing myself with my own incredible foresight in planting such lovely specimens and once again rejoicing that my poor memory allows me to surprise myself so beautifully. Then I should be wandering happily back to the grill where I should then char myself some asparagus and chicken and watch the smoke drift into the warm blue sky with its puffy, marshmallow clouds. That is what SHOULD be happening. Right now. Not tomorrow or this weekend.
I know it's March and March is like that and tomorrow will be better and blah, blah, blah. I don't care...don't be that perky friend. Sit on the couch with me...have a beer....eat some ice cream and don't try to cheer me up.