Observe

The first mouse died in its pursuit of happiness in the form of peanut butter. I felt a little  remorse but was able to explain it away. You're in my house, little buddy. Technically, you're a home invader. Yes, you were only seeking warmth and sustenance but you brought with you pestilence and disease. I removed his/her body from the trap and enfolded it in a paper towel. Later, I took it out to the woods and laid it gently in the shade of a yellowed branch of fern. 

The second mouse died in the same way. I felt no remorse at all this time. This is my fucking house. That's why I killed you. Stand your ground. I removed its body from the trap and flung it in the old dish pan I use for compost among the coffee dregs and grounds, egg shells and banana peels. We all biodegrade. Don't worry, I'll get mine too. 

This morning, Andre 3000 pointed out the way I talk to myself, the way I compare myself to others, the way I envy. That's deep, Andre 3000. And you're right, I do need to chill. 

Tonight, I took myself to the local place to eat after not eating all day. It's Friday night. People are there. In groups. Friends. Families. Dates. For a moment it felt good to be out of the house. Out of my head. But that didn't last very long. There's something about the sound of social laughter in public places that makes me feel alien. Separate. Some of that was happening. I was hungry though and so I ordered food and ate it. When I'd had enough (company and food), I asked for a box and the check. I boxed my food, gave the waitress my card, exchanged smiles with her, signed the check and left, forgetting my boxed leftovers. The hell with it. 

Outside, the night was warm and quiet. I felt much better immediately. I looked up at the stars, breathed the scent, and leaned against my car for a while just taking in the night air and savoring it. When I was driving home, I saw a woman standing in the shadow of a closed Dunkin' Donuts. She'd worked the closing shift and was waiting for a ride. I only saw her dark silhouette and the small light given off by the phone in her hand. I got that feeling I get when I like something about people. Some kind of sadness for us all. Why isn't it joy? Or maybe it is.