Rule one: no second guessing.
Today I went to buy crickets for our gecko. You buy crickets like you would order drip coffee or fries, "small, medium or large". I order medium today and the pet store owner scoops them up, bare-handed and with relish, into a warm, plastic bag where they wait to be fed to a monster with no teeth. I buy medium because you can't see their eyes as well as the large ones. And I know, undoubtedly, that all their little buggy eyes are trained on me with looks of infinite reproach. Mashed and swallowed...
I know I'm having a "too-much-feeling" day when I start to attribute feelings to insects and inanimate objects. Earlier, while washing dishes, a spoon leaped from my hand back into the soapy water and my first thought was "oh, it is too cold for it out here" accompanied by a distinct feeling of anxiety. It would be nice if this attention to the small things seeped into the rest of my life, like knowing off the top of my head what month it is. Someone asked me for the date the other day, and I paused, mentally searching my for any point of reference. All I came up with was, "its June, I think".
I blame this appalling lack of attention to detail on Max, my 9-week old son. Max hasn't learned the difference between day and night yet. And he seems to be in no great hurry to, either. He is trying to make it seems like mere oversight on his part, but I think it is pure laziness. I know it is not for lack of intelligence, for just today he discovered his right hand. Granted, it startled the bejeezes out of him, but he and Right Hand have been studying each other all afternoon. It floats in front of his face and he watches suspiciously, thinking "go ahead and try, I've got my eye on you". Sometimes Right Hand will tease him and smack him in the face, just as quickly disappearing. I've told Max as soon as he learns to get along with both his hands and control them properly, he and I will go out for tacos and tequila to celebrate.
