Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Events and responsibilities have transpired against me, so I won't be hunting the last day of the Oklahoma quail season. Which is today.
And since I won't be hunting today, thus begins the thirty (more or less) most boring days in the Gregorian calendar; that cold, dead, lifeless, joyless, huntless, fishless period between the end of quail season and the beginning of fishing.
Maybe I should take up predator hunting, but the last thing I need is another expensive hobby. Maybe I should hunt the conservation order light goose season, but we have no snows around here, and even if we did, the last thing I need is another expensive hobby.
This would be the perfect time to have a short-term existential mid-life crisis, preferably one involving warm climes and fish, but I can't even afford a stay-crisis (you know, like a stay-cation...) much less a full-blown one.
So I'll just sit here, little head poking above the windowsill, waiting, waiting, for spring, trapped on a poverty-induced Mobius strip of boredom.
*with apologies to Edward Gorey and the other 25 banally-deceased Gashlycrumb Tinies
Posted by Chad Love at 10:44 AM