Brownies & Intimidation.

Who knew it was more fun to bake brownies for yourself than for others? These are not for me, and although I usually consider myself a thoughtful person, one who enjoys giving to others, this baking brownies for other people business, honestly, sucks. Where is the reward, and the pleasure in that? I like to give, really I do. I delight in giving my time, energy, patience and love… I even like to cook for other people, but something about this seems wrong. While my students and my enemies might not view me in such a light, I often thinking of myself as generous and kind. I am honestly a bit surprised by my visceral and stubborn reaction.

Meanwhile, in idle boredom I peel the skin from my leg and scratch at nothing, thinking to a year from now and all the things I will do: And trying not to think of brownies or intimidation. It works.
And then it doesn’t.
Airline travel and D-day, sexual harassment and colonial reparations. Haiti’s orphaned children and the decided lack of stable family I have to offer one; All these things can’t quite distract me. Chocolate and soccer, unrequited love and sweltering heat; Distant helicopter blades beat the air in that unique way. But even the caress of an adoring cat’s tail can’t quiet my mind and there is only so much skin left on my legs to pick at.

Like billowing curtains in the wind, smells of someone else's brownies waft up the stair, barge into my room and demand attention. The honeymoon picture of my grandparents watches me, as if daring me to resist. And the alarm sounds. It is time.