Maybe I should drop you at your door. Or leave tonight and vanish up the shore. Anywhere but here.
It’s three o'clock we’re driving in your car, You’re screaming out the window at the stars, “Please don’t drive me home!”
Blame us because we are who we are. Hate us because you’ll never get that far. And who’d suppose you would go? I’ve already learned enough to know.
Tell me all the places we could go. And count the headlights passing on the road, A long, long time ago.
Here we are. Foreign to their world. Straight and composed. Your sermons I can do without And I finally found. That everybody loves to love you When you’re far away. Could it be we’ve done something wrong We’d make it home to your place before dawn “Please, don’t take me home.” “Please, don’t take me home.”
I just don’t know where to begin these days. I feel my brain garden is wrought with weeds and overgrown shrubbery. I can’t put a finger on it, probably because it’s a myriad of things. Things beyond my control and things within my control. These nagging pests are really creating a terrible landscape in my metaphorical mind garden.
It feels as though I’ve been having one of those long brain farts that simply will not pass. I wish I could just blow it out my ears and move on, but, alas, it’s fogging up my head space and it’s getting old. I want my mind to be a lush Eden of green thoughts and fresh ideas, but all I see is swampy marshland and it needs to change.
We don’t normally share music on Growing Up Last, but today I’m feeling it. Honestly, music is one of my go-to remedies for the mental blues. No, it won’t help us conceive our second child any quicker, make my lackluster job shiny again, or keep my kid from sticking bark down his ear. However, it can’t hurt either.
Share with me ways in which you spruce up your mental green space and prepare for new growth.
As for my actual garden…well…
The good news is my wife and I planted a lavender patch recently, albeit completely phallic in shape.