Inscrutable Elephants
02/20/2004 04:24 p.m.

The last two days have been awful.  I've overdrawn my checking account.  I have to move out of my apartment because I can't afford it.  Guy I dated is writing a book and referring to me as College Girl as though I'm some sort of laughable stereotype.  There's no sunshine today.  And to top it all off, I'm freaking out because some dude will not call me no matter how much telepathy I send his way, and I refuse to let myself call him, and so I'm making myself miserable.  And hating myself for inviting such misery. 

There is a solemnity to the realization that one is a hopeless and miserable.  All I really want to do is crawl deeply under the covers and meditate on the holiness of solitude.  But I keep being visited by inscrutable elephants. You know the kind.  You have up impermeable defenses-- no people, no limos, nothing gets in.  Then this elephant comes along, and just... steps over the walls, doesn't even feel the barbed wire.  And so he's standing in your courtyard, looking mildly around, wondering why you seem so panicked over his presence.  Why?!? Because there's a freaking elephant in your yard, your beautiful once-empty yard!!!  Why is it here?!? It's causing so many problems!!!

And yet, it is undeniable that the elephant adds something to the ambience.  I'd like having it here if I didn't hate it so much.