Have you ever just sat and stared at the wall? I think we really need to do that more. And I’m not talking about just veging out. I’m talking about turning off all the distractions. Off goes the TV. Off goes the stereo. Off goes the computer. Put away the magazines, the books, the newspaper, the piles of mail you need to read. You may even want to turn down the lights. Then just plop yourself down and sit there. Don’t fall asleep (if you fall asleep immediately that’s a sign that you’re not getting enough sleep at night), just sit there and let your body relax.

Give it five or ten minutes or so and let your body completely relax. If you’re like me, your mind will be racing this entire time. This is pretty much how I feel all day. If your mind is still racing, you need to keep sitting there. Breathe slowly and stay put until your mind finally begins to slow down. You’ll stop jumping frantically from random thought to random thought and your mind will begin to thoughtfully dwell on things. Sound unfamiliar? Probably because few of us ever take the time to get here. I’d encourage you to take the time. It’s rare, but so necessary.

Just when you think things are under control, they blow up all over the place. That’s usually the way things work. If you make plans, they change. If you get comfortable, something makes you uncomfortable. The crazy thing is excepting that as part of life and as part of a greater plan. As confusing and frustrating as change can be, it’s so comforting to know that I’m not in control. Because I’m a pretty crappy planner.

That’s what I was thinking as I walked along the concrete sidewalk, my eyes lazily flirting this way and that. I watched the water drip from an air conditioner and saw the torn and ragged canvas overhangs from abandoned and empty apartment windows.

“Get off the road, you drunk.” At least that’s what I thought when I saw the middle-aged guy in a stained wife-beater standing five feet from the corner yelling into his cell phone. The walk sign flashed, and as I crossed the street he clicked the phone off and looked at me like a long lost friend.

“Well how about that!” he shouted, “look at this weather!” And he spread his arms to the world around him, as if he’d just ordered a sunny day with 70 degree temps and little humidity on the side. I nodded and said quietly, “Yeah, it’s a nice day.”

I could never tell anymore if people were drunk or not. One day on the city bus I started talking to this crazed drunk Marine. Of course I didn’t know he was drunk. I probably figured he was crazed, but that didn’t stop me. By the time I realized he was drunk it was too late and he was jabbering about his favorite author, Mario Puzo, this Italian Shakespeare. The entire bus laughed to themselves at the kid foolish enough to talk to a drunk man.

Since then I’ve thought everyone who’s a little loud or a little crazy was drunk. Sometimes we’re all drunk. I watched wife-beater man walk down the middle of the street, gesturing this way and that towards a few other pedestrians, and I wasn’t sure if they were friends or acquaintances or just passersby.

You know, I never seem to notice June going by. It’s probably the best month of the year. It’s finally nice out (okay, so that’s yet to be the case this year), it’s not too hot, you have the longest days of the whole year, it’s just a great month. My birthday is also smack in the middle of June, which always helps. June is a great month for school kids–they finally get out. It’s an all around great month.

It just always feels like I don’t realize it’s June until it’s July. I noticed that today is June 8th. That’s eight days into June. That’s more than a week. And I hardly noticed. It’s kind of depressing. I’m hoping the next 22 days left in June don’t go by as quickly. You only get one June a year. I’d like to enjoy mine.

Why do there have to be so many fun things to do in life? It’s just about bedtime and I’ve hardly spent any of my evening getting some of the things I wanted to accomplished. I think that has to be the most frustrating thing about joining the real world. When you’re in college your time is so fragmented that it feels like you have more free time. Then you join the 9 to 5 workforce and your free time is suddenly slammed into a tiny little chunk of space in the evening between paying the bills and brushing your teeth. If you’re lucky you have time to trim your toe nails.

Alas, the joys of a busy life in the twenty-first century.

Friends. We need friends. All our friends are moving to opposite ends of the continent. So if you want to be our friend, we’re looking for some. Apply in person.

Sometimes when I’m walking down the street and the sun is shining and it’s springtime and it feels really good I wish I could be in one of those videos where there’s a band walking behind you playing one of those popular radio hits that were made for warm, sunny, spring days when you have to crank up the radio and roll the windows down–or if you walk just smile and sing to yourself; which is exactly why I need the band to follow me. The soaring electric guitar parts don’t work as well in your head.

I never thought I’d spend an evening of my life paying bills. How depressing is that? The bills pile up for a few weeks and then one evening you sit down and go through them all, writing a ton of checks, and licking too many stamps and envelopes. I always thought this was the kind of thing grownups did around the kitchen table. It’s kind of freaking me out. I’m 21 years old. I’m not supposed to be a grownup. I’m not supposed to be paying bills. I’m supposed to be young and stupid and reckless. I’m still supposed to be a kid.

Unclean! Unclean!

I better go play with my blocks to make up for all this grownup behavior.

The snow comes down like blankets from heaven. It coats everything in pure, refining white, hiding the dirt and the filth of a melting February. I trudge through it, lifting my boots high over the three inches, huffing and puffing and trying not to miss the bus. There’s a certain calm when the snow falls. It’s soothing and quiet. Muffling the sounds and distractions of an ordinary day. The snow takes the bitterness out of the air, it’s sapped the atmosphere of the arctic chill that makes you pull your hat lower and your scarf higher. The snow lets you breathe easy and relax the muscles in your back and your shoulders that tighten when the January air sucks every bit of warmth from your jacket and your gloves and your boots and the tiny gap between your gloves and your coat sleeve.

I collapse on the bus in a slump, letting my bags sit on my lap and listening to the crunch of the massive bus wheels going round and round through the dirty brown snow caked on the road like batter. It’s days like today that make winter worthwhile.