Normal

Back to normal.
Normal.
Normal.
Normal.
I could type it 100 more times. I don't think I understand. Thinking about normal is like thinking about heaven. Sure, people talk about it, but that doesn't mean it exists.
Back to normal.
Normal.

Man, what a week. What a month. What an existence. I feel like a changed man. Am I a changed man?

I went to grab breakfast at Belle Star's this morning. I am almost out of money. I ordered a bowl of Cheerio's and some coffee. The last time I ordered this, it cost me $2.35.

"That's $3.05, Curt," Belle Star said.

I explained to Belle Star that I had had this exact same breakfast two weeks ago and it cost me $2.35.
"That's fine, Curt, give me $2.35."

Back to normal.

You break away for a little while, you connect with the world, you begin to understand your place. And you come back home to all your responsibilities and that understanding starts to slip away.

Hold on, Curt. I say it to myself, over and over. I write it on my hand.

I am holding on. I am not giving in.

Back to normal.

Normal.

I made some butter yesterday, some lemon pepper butter. My dad was in town today and stopped by to visit for a little while. "This doesn't taste like lemon or pepper," he said, definitively. "This doesn't taste like anything." The butter was delicious. He went to the fridge for the regular store-bought butter and spread some on the other half of his biscuit.

Normal.

When was life normal? As a kid? As a teenager? Was normal ever something to aspire to?

I was sitting on a bench outside the diner this afternoon reading, with Warden tied up next to me. A woman my age came up to me and started talking to me.

"Is that your dog?" she asked.

"No," I said, "I saw him just sitting here, and he looked lonely."

"He's a beautiful dog. I wonder if he was in the dog show this past weekend."

"I don't think so," I said. "If he was a show dog I don't think they would just leave him out here."

I put my sunglasses on.

Back to normal.