'April, April, laugh thy girlish laughter'
Saturday, April 1st, 2023 10:53 pm 'And the moment after, weep thy girlish tears.' And other unfortunate poems of my childhood.
True to type, this April began with a thunderstorm followed by mist and fog, all of which I was asleep for. Brilliant sunshine when I woke at 9, not that I stayed awake. Shut the door to the study where the light was bouncing off the white walls and went back to sleep for two hours. Sleep seems to be my main hobby these days, which I suppose should worry me except it doesn't. The worst I get from sleeping in is vague anxiety dreams, while often as not I have pleasant glimpses into other worlds instead. I never understood the poet who dreamed he was a butterfly and 'from that moment was never quite sure that he was not a butterfly dreaming it was a Chinese philosopher.' Pretty sure Stoppard got it wrong in any case, but while there might have been a slight confusion on waking, when the dream butterfly unaccountably found itself in a human body, I doubt the confusion could survive the good old 'woke up this morning and Christ I was still me' disillusion.
In any case, went out in fall jacket because the temps were scraping the 50sF/ 14C, which would have felt much warmer if the sun had stayed out only it didn't, got paté- well, liverwurst, which is cheaper and tastes better than the various upscale terrines Fiesta has in stock, and came home to sit with beanbags and hurt while the wild winds blew in a cold front and the temps went down to freezing again.
Stepped on the living room reading glasses and popped the lens so must get new ones. Was actually at the dollar store t'other day but it was crowded, and there's not much room in there anyway. Will be the same tomorrow because the sun will shine. Maybe I should just take to wearing my expensive reading glasses and ditch the scratched, clouded, and unsatisfactory ones.
True to type, this April began with a thunderstorm followed by mist and fog, all of which I was asleep for. Brilliant sunshine when I woke at 9, not that I stayed awake. Shut the door to the study where the light was bouncing off the white walls and went back to sleep for two hours. Sleep seems to be my main hobby these days, which I suppose should worry me except it doesn't. The worst I get from sleeping in is vague anxiety dreams, while often as not I have pleasant glimpses into other worlds instead. I never understood the poet who dreamed he was a butterfly and 'from that moment was never quite sure that he was not a butterfly dreaming it was a Chinese philosopher.' Pretty sure Stoppard got it wrong in any case, but while there might have been a slight confusion on waking, when the dream butterfly unaccountably found itself in a human body, I doubt the confusion could survive the good old 'woke up this morning and Christ I was still me' disillusion.
In any case, went out in fall jacket because the temps were scraping the 50sF/ 14C, which would have felt much warmer if the sun had stayed out only it didn't, got paté- well, liverwurst, which is cheaper and tastes better than the various upscale terrines Fiesta has in stock, and came home to sit with beanbags and hurt while the wild winds blew in a cold front and the temps went down to freezing again.
Stepped on the living room reading glasses and popped the lens so must get new ones. Was actually at the dollar store t'other day but it was crowded, and there's not much room in there anyway. Will be the same tomorrow because the sun will shine. Maybe I should just take to wearing my expensive reading glasses and ditch the scratched, clouded, and unsatisfactory ones.
