I slept until 9 am this morning, most unusual. I tend to cheat myself a bit each day, maybe get 6 hours instead of 7, and then make up for it in one swoop some luscious morning when the covers feel just right. I just loved it, curled up with Miss Fish and Simon, dreaming. Stupidly I spent my dreamtime hanging out with someone’s annoying girlfriend and then trying to figure out how to get a truck of furniture across town in the rain. So, time wasted intellectually. WHY I can’t just ask to dream about more productive pursuits is the question of the age.
Larry told me that if anyone could grow wings and fly I was surely that person, and I take that to mean that if anyone can train their brain to have a dream it is surely me. Legions before me have tried and failed. Or have they? It might be more of an awareness issue than the practical barrier everyone assumes.
I think of my brain as extremely multitasky; again I find neural process to be shockingly like graphics. Sometimes there are layers that simply can’t be clicked on until you Ungroup or move aside the stronger elements. It’s as simple as that. I just have to learn what to Ungroup and I’ll be able to see the hidden layers.
I miss my handsome husband and sons like a physical ache now. It’s been over a month and still ten days to go. The Bill-line and the Dead-line is the same; November 29/30. I’ll see enough of them in December to tank me up, first in St. Louis in the first couple of weeks (brr) and then in Tucson for Christmas hols. I am distracted by longing for the feel of them in my arms.
Also I think of him maundering about without me. Even if he isn’t. I have a lot of motherly feelings, which I try to suppress. I like to do things like make a fragrant dinner and cuddle little kids and smell their hair. I love to make people feel better when they are sad and stick up for them when they are misunderstood and I even liked changing diapers. I love taking care of birdies and cats too. As much as I want my man, I also want to do things like make oatmeal and clean the cabinet fronts. Once in a while, I like to do these things. This excessively long spate of nerding (which overlaps Thanksgiving, stupidly) is… excessively long.
I listen to Richard Thompson, maundering.
And then I listen to I Like Big Butts And I Cannot Lie to get back in the spirit of it all.