when trite isn't a strong enough word

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   you only live once, but don't kill yourself trying to make the most 
   out of every moment.  one thing i learned from jamie was to just sit 
   there and waste ten minutes of time every day.  let the batteries 
   recharge a little and one enjoys the rest of the day so much more.

That was the last paragraph in an email I wrote in 1997. I was so busy being irritatingly trite that I had no clue how irritatingly trite I was being. Blech. Part of me wants to purge all this old old old email. But the other part of me thinks that maybe if I have kids it'd be nice to show them evidence of my stages of progression so then maybe they'll be slightly more self-aware when they're going through their irritatingly trite period. Blech.

Having said that, the Jamie being referred to was this really great guy I knew in high school named Jamie. As time goes on, I realize he had far greater a clue than I had back then. I met him in high school, but his mom knew my nonna--they were both quilters in Chelmsford. The world is a small place.

Oh no--I'm being trite again! Must end the pain!

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