2/23/17

I started this day quite actively.  I only hit snooze once, virtually jumping out of bed on the second alarm sounding of the "Star Wars" main title score.  I went to the garden, harvested a head of cabbage and watered.  I made it into the gym and had a decent workout.  I was at my desk ready to buy Ryan Adams concert tickets ten minutes before they went on sale at nine.  I started strong.

Somewhere after lunch, I lost momentum and at 5:41 now find myself largely bored and mildly bewildered.  Twenty-three days later and my Pointer Sisters record never arrived.  Seller contacted, restitution requested.  What to do tonight--I suppose have a drink, play a record, watch a movie, read "Harry Potter," go to bed.  By all accounts, a fine evening, especially for a Thursday.  And yet, it seems something's missing.  Thought we'd be looking at houses this weekend, but the wife is sick and the realtor never got back to us.  Glacially paced progress is still progress, but wholly unsatisfying.  It's not much of a ride much less a vessel for hope.

We need a vacation, a true adventure.  We can't seem to get that planned either.  The world seems determined to keep us exactly where and what we are right now.  It's like trying to make an online purchase, but the screen keeps refreshing, telling us there are errors or missing information in our submission.  Which field did we miss?

I feel a little better having typed anyway.  Still, I'd better shape up soon or I risk carrying this apathy over into Oscar night.