Thursday, June 9, 2011

BAKED ALASKA DAYS


Summer mornings are the inverse of baked Alaska. Even though there is a comforting coolness, the heat is right there, waiting to drift and pour out heavy, like lava. Still and all, I would that I could make myself get up and get busy in the morning. To enjoy it. I could sleep when it is hot and horrible.


The cats hate me. Cooder won't answer when I call. I found her under the dining room table, barely bothering to pick up her head, wearing an expression of utter disdain and contempt for allowing the heat. Miep is a little more forgiving.

It was hell day on the train. Lots more people than usual for a mid-day on Thursday. The crowds were not amenable to making room. The car was filled with the unpleasant smell of someone eating fried chicken. Fried chicken is not a scent you really want in a contained space unless you have been starved for a while and want every iota of every thing related to your upcoming meal.

A holiday-suited man in a hat with a backpack sat down next to me, clutching his clumsy backpack possessively on his lap, rather than putting it on the floor of the car. He solemnly read his email, his elbows nearly in my face, crowding me in a most annoying fashion. I considered pushing him out of my space, but an empty seat opened up and I just moved. 

On the return ride, however, I had two bags of groceries and a woman stood up to give me her seat. That was somewhat astonishing. Did I look that old? Decrepit? 



Working hard on articulating some things in therapy. Thinking a lot about reinvention of the self. What to do going forward. 


"Th(is) sense of certainty is rare in the contemporary world. Indeed, modern life can seem to be defined by its opposite. And unrelenting flow of choices confronts us at nearly every moment of our lives, and most of us could admit to finding ourselves at least occasionally wavering. Far from being certain and unhesitating, our lives can at the extreme seem shot through with hesitation and indecision, culminating in choices finally made on the basis of nothing at all."


No comments:

Post a Comment

I SIMPLY ACCEPT THE POSSIBILITY

November 12th I feel as if I am writing a wartime diary. That remains to be seen.  I managed to get up early this morning, as someone was co...