So Much Simpler
Wednesday. No complaints.
I know. Surprises me too. A good lunch at PCB: a single Guinness makes the afternoon go well without messing with the mind the way it would with two, particularly when the mind is only required to assemble a line of test machines; connect cables, see if the computers boot, test a particular piece of software for the field. A nice afternoon. So no complaints, the head behaving, the day clear, home in time to watch the news and futz with a new ArtandLife design in PhotoShop.
You do go up and down.
Maybe it's the steroidal nasal spray: goes straight to the, um, brain, it does; then again, maybe it's not. Maybe it's the chemical-optical-obsessive-depressive jumping bean behavior you see in all the flippo people who surround you, maybe I'm just noticing this same behavior in myself. One advantage (or disadvantage) of age and experience is you turn up an ever increasing acreage of bullshit in your own heretofore immaculate immagination. “Mind like a trap”, he boasted. Mind like a snapped trap that was discarded decades back. Embarrassing to realize you're part of what you thought was the problem, but an exhilarating feeling of freedom too, what with no longer having a need to keep appearances. “You're an idiot, my man!” Of course. As are we all. Pass the mustard, please. And while you're at it, open that second bottle....
Reading this is becoming painful.
Ah, but the writing, my man. It's so much simpler.