The Signs are Everywhere

I am firmly convinced that the answer to all of life's questions lie in front of our faces. Oh, but it's not that easy. Like the most difficult professor ever encountered, life teaches us by the dreaded Socratic Method, asking us the questions and then having us take the evidence presented to us and put it together to devise a sound answer for it all. I would say logical answer, but after much deliberation, I've decided that logic plays a very minor role in the way life works. Life doesn't always make sense, but that doesn't mean you can't try to make sense of it. It's different for everyone, but for me, the first step of the algorithm of life is based in optimism.

My moments of deciding that just maybe everything is going to be all right come from the most incredible situations-things so ridiculous that no matter what is happening at that moment, I can't help but stop and laugh. I consider that evidence that maybe there's something out there telling me "smile-it's not that bad." Maybe it is evidence that there are better things to do than dwell on the negative and not try to find the humor in a dour situation. Whether it be a purloined trash can, a couch with a faulty leg*, or reminders that you're thought of, there's no reason not to take these things as signs at that perhaps starting right now, there are brighter days upon the horizon...or that trash can thieves should be tar and feathered and couches that were practically given away are not to be trusted.


Explanation of the *Faulty Leg

Remember my kvetching about my trip through Missouri? Well, the night that I returned to Murray, after 10.5 some-odd hours on the road, I walked through the door or my apartment, breathing in the familiarity of home and proceeded toward one of my couches. Though quite firm and thus good for the back, one of the 'special features' of the loveseat is a broken leg. It's not broken all of the time...I reattach the leg when it comes off, which is becoming a more frequent occurrence. You can see where this is going, right? With all intentions of sitting down and staring at the wall and enjoying the sensation of not being hurtled down the interstate at 75 mph, I instead felt the leg of the couch buckle beneath me and then collapse, causing the couch to tilt to one side. To pareaphrase Chris Farley in Tommy Boy, "I really could have done without that." I got up from the couch, looked at it for a moment, and then brushed my teeth and went to bed. My couch has been tilted like that for 24 days now. I promise I'll fix it by this weekend.