last glass...dusty buckets...parched e-lips...sponge...drip...drop

2003-04-28 - 1:06 p.m.: honey-flavored vinegar

i had the chance to be a god, this morning. i performed miserably.

there was a crumb from a cupcake that i baked yesterday for amy that had fallen on the floor, unnoticed. it stayed there overnight, hardening. when i woke up this morning and crept into the kitchen to heat up some water to give my insides a hot shower, too, i found a surprise. a stretched-out trail of ants leading from one corner of the kitchen, where the tiles disappear under the edge of the oven, to the other, where my crumb foundered under the assault of persistent little limbs. the scale of the operation was impressive�amazing, even. i was stupefied. at the same time, offended. i didn't mind sharing my space with these lovely little beings... but my sense of belonging? that was challenged. i didn't *want* to have to watch my step. i also didn't want the bottoms of my slippers to be covered with gruesome mistakes. i didn't know what to do.

i did what every bad god would do.

i got out my broom and dustpan. thus commenced "operation relocation."

you have no idea how difficult it is to kindly sweep up ants.

i didn't want to crush them with the bristles, so i tried to push them with gusts of wind.

every time i thought i was done, twisting the handles of the bag together, i'd see one or two more little ants, aimlessly wandering in zigzags, wondering where all of their comrades had disappeared to. i would sigh and open the bag, collect the survivors with a few waves of my divine wand, and close it back up.

there is nothing more guilt-evoking than the sight of little black-dash shadows moving up and down the inside folds of a beige plastic bag.

i rushed them out to the dumpster, untwisted the bag and tossed them in, justifying the act by imagining the dumpster to be an ant wonderland, filled with all of the tastes, smells and textures that make their lives meaningful. they would hardly even have to work for their food. no more long lines, no more scurrying. just cake crumbs, cornflakes and fermenting fruit, for eternity.

then i went back inside, showered, dressed, and left for work. on my way i breathed in the air, smiled at the greenness of the grass, laughed at the flowers on the trees (they are SEX, they ARE sex) then looked at an ant on the sidewalk. no lines, no scurrying. happy as can be.

i am a terrible god.

(but my life as a person has been good. great. i think i was propositioned, yesterday, for 'life-affirming sex' by a good friend. i didn't know what to think of it. i took it as a joke, and laughed. then he did, too. but it was a strange, uncomfortable sort of laugh. hmmmm. curiouser and curiouser...)

inward...outward