the rix mix

Hanging an art show Monday, opening on Tuesday, gallery sitting Wednesday & Thursday, enjoyable & familiar activities this past week. So why does May suck year after year? It used to be my favorite month, a time to feel romantic madness, nature going crazy. I had to shut the window early this morning, the birds were making so much noise on the fire escape. Tried attracting an old flame's interest in maybe getting together for a meal or a walk in the park. But I should know better by now than to expect a workaholic to be moved by the molecular poetry of Spring's peak, when daylight savings only means one can now labor past supper into the evening. Most irritating about workaholics are their pathetic attempts at being nostalgic for the pleasant leisurely moments of the past; a hazy memory of a few non-productive hours somehow stolen from their schedules - perhaps forced upon them by pleasure-loving heathens, even secretly regretted. They cannot permit themselves to enjoy the beauties of tangled weeds, zig-zagging birds, & the shapes of tidal shorelines. If we do it for them, they condemn us for our frivolity.