She Writes Her Name on Sparrows

(Only one person would probably get the Subject line of this post, and I don't think she even knows what LJ is, much less reads mine. Though maybe you'll get this, vaznetti!)

Earlier this afternoon, a sparrow flew up to the window, and attached itself to the screen. It hung there, chirping merrily, then flew away. That pretty much was the highlight of my day.

When I was little, for some reason I was really into sparrows. I had fantasies of catching them. Trapping them somehow, or just grabbing them... this actually bolsters my belief that I was a cat in my previous life, because these fantasies were quite detailed and elaborate. A former therapist was very concerned about this -- I think she started suspecting that I could very well be one of those sociopaths that tortures animals as a kid, then grows up to kill people -- and she kept asking me what I had planned to do with the birds once I'd caught them. This really startled me, because I actually had no plans for them. My sparrow fantasy never went beyond the acquisition phase.

This is sort of the story of my life. I don't really exhibit good long-term planning. I'm like a kitten with ADD -- I'll chase random bugs until I suddenly realize I have to be in the other room now. Then I'm shocked that I haven't gotten anything accomplished.

( And now for some rambling! )