duck-shaped pain


7 August 2001
pitter patter pitter patter

Another day of breathing in warm applesauce. The humidity here went as high as it will go early in the morning and then stayed there all day.

Plus, it was grey outside. Combine that with the excellent lighting that my workplace provides, and it would have been like a return to the womb, had I any desire to do so.

It made me surly and unable to work. So I went home. And was productive.

I took a nap.

I stared at the ceiling while laying on the floor, listening to A Love Supreme.

I picked up the paper journal, looked at it hopefully for a few seconds, and then went back being prone.

I thought about making an elaborate dinner, but I ended up eating cold buffalo wings and a big bowl of jasmine rice for dinner.

My big effort was to take the dog out for a walk. Moisture makes him sullen. If it rains, he just sits out there in the middle of the storm, looking sad. For hours, sometimes days afterward, he's just grumpy. His basic emotions range from staring at you while sitting right next to you to staring at you while hiding behind the barbecue.

I was distracted, trying to count to 100 and back in Thai while walking, and he was just not in the mood. We walked for about 20 minutes, and then it started to rain again. At least the hard stuff was saved until we got in the house. I looked outside after taking my shoes off, and it was pouring.

Inside, there are many diversions. Books to read, language to study, dishes to wash.

But laying on the couch, listening to it rain, seems like the most important thing in the world right now.

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