stray lobelia in rosemary pot

Life is unpredictable. Diets can change radically in a day. One roommate will move out and another in. Plants can pop up in unexpected places, unnoticed till they flower, announcing themselves in color, like the blue lobelia now growing in the rosemary pot on the balcony. The last several days I have been weighing two opposites, metaphorically holding one binary in each hand: optimism and pessimism. Do I act as if things will turn out well, a new and better chapter about to start, begin, for example, searching Craigslist for that used men's 10-speed I've been wanting for years, birthday present to myself? Or do I begin prepping for upheaval, sensing the snake paused, tongue flickering, at the opening of my burrow? Should I put up the simple black metal IKEA curtain rods bought months ago to hang the sheer, white, linen-cotton panels thrifted nearly six months ago, or should I return them unopened for a refund? Should I buy a packet of nasturtium seeds for the large, empty planter on the balcony and wait for the green discs to shoot up and then the edible, peppery, orange flowers to bloom and trail down among my potted herbs as the heat rises, or should I begin selling off everything I own?

thyme-bloom straggler

Logic says to be cautious, prudent, practical, to start packing. But my gut says to act as if. And so yesterday on the way with a friend to a writers' group, we stopped at the co-op for fresh berry-ginger juice at the Sip food cart, while I ran inside the store to grab a packet of nasturtiums—because nothing is more hopeful than a handful of seeds.

Uprising Seeds packet, "Trailing Mix" Nasturtium

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