I am neither mechanically nor artistically inclined. In junior high I was forced to take an art class and a shop class. I was exceedingly terrible at both. My drawing capabilities would best be described as “elementary”, and the birdhouse I crafted was eventually condemned. Since I have no idea how to create things with my hands, I do not really appreciate the beauty of craftsmanship or art. As far as I’m concerned, it’s all magic to me. Magic pixies enchant other people’s hands and they are able to create. This seems like the only plausible explanation to me.
As such, I really enjoy easily accomplished activities that make me feel a teeny bit handy or artsy. Color by numbers makes me feel like Van Gogh. I get a pathetic sense of excitement when I purchase an item that requires some assembly. I take pleasure in reading the directions. I may be the only person I know that actually likes changing a flat tire. Look at how pleased with myself I am!
Besides taking undue pleasure in simple projects, I have been busy keeping myself entertained. My lovely wife left home for an eight-day trip on Friday. She was in Chicago this past weekend, and is currently in St. Louis for a few days before heading back to Florida. I have spent most of my time alone thus far doing what I would assume most men would do. This mostly consists of staying up late drinking on the couch in my underwear while watching bad television and dumb movies.1
With so much alone time and an uncanny ability to amuse myself, I had a great weekend that is not really worth discussing. The most noteworthy event in the last couple weeks was the return of the cows. Sometime before Thanksgiving, the cows that lived across the street mysteriously disappeared. This saddened me more than I would care to admit, and I felt guilty every time I ate beef in December. About a week ago the cows mysteriously reappeared across the street, and Megan and I have been in a slightly better mood since.
While this herd is a bit louder and much stinkier than the previous herd, I am still glad the black-and-white bovine buddhas have returned. I hope these heifers mangage to stay in the lines and don’t get shipped off to the slaughterhouse anytime soon.
1 or “living like a single man again” as Amir refers to it.