“But I need solitude–which is to say, recovery, return to myself, the breath of a free, light, playful air.” ~ Friedrich Nietzsche
Not a hair on my head was disturbed by sleep last night. I used an isochronic brainwave calming mp3 to attempt a deep and solid night’s sleep, if you can call a three hours a night’s sleep. It may have worked; my goal was accomplished. No worries, right? I had an unplanned afternoon nap on the couch at my petsitting job. I’d been absorbed in the drastic and historical news that was unfolding at a rapid and lush pace, when unbeknownst to me sleep crept in and pulled me down out of my unwise mental state. It’s not that events of really froggy proportions should be ignored. What tires is the analytical panel-driven commentary about what the heck is happening. Me? I was doing my best to look at the eyes of the commentators with the angle of who is inside these human shells, and why are they so concerned about what is happening. Well, golly gee Batman, it is starting to seriously look like members of the campaign team of the current president of the United States colluded with the Russians to trash Hillary so that the Don would get the Oval Office gig. No biggie, right? Wrong. Let’s not call it “huge”, k? That word has been so overused it is starting look like my grandfather’s old shirt that I just can’t stop using as an over-shirt even though it is getting seriously raggy; in fact, I will wear it today, for the exact purpose I just mentioned. That and my mom’s gold and garnet ring, which I wear on a chain with silver pentagram, right over my heart. Thanks, grandpa. I don’t remember how I came to possess your old shirt. Thanks for all the years of comfort, and for the deep conversation we had that one day, on the deck overlooking the lake, while I was on a rest stop during my 1800 mile bicycle journey. Ancestors are way gnarly dude. Soooo, moving forward. Yeh, I’ve got three workdays in a row ahead of me. Then Sunday off. Sunday is when I begin my housesitting gig, for the same woman I do the weekly petsitting gig for. So, anyway, one day off, then one day more of work, the three consecutive days at the sitting gig with no gainful employment to hold me back. I hope to get some hiking done, along the trail that leads from that house out into the waist-deep sage forest outback. But I hope even more so to get a lot of sitting done as well, a purpose clearly stated in the agreement. Yeh, the Trump-Russian scandal is now in process of exploding. Break out the popcorn and ale dude I’m rooting for the good guys. I’ll watch a fair amount of cable news, on MSNBC. They will certainly have Katie Tur on, as she is one world class journalist, and as she traveled with Trump for a year and a half during the campaign, reporting and delivering skillfully. I have such as crush on Katie! So here I sit, blog stuff. I’ve got Celtic music playing on Pandora, online, streaming, whatever. I’ve got a big ol’ internal smile going on. Springtime is here. Rain and/or snow coming tonight. The trees are gonna pop, one right after the other, from all of the moisture and fresh nitrogen. Had a powerful massage yesterday. I’m feelin’ pretty good on just three hours sleep. It’s all subjective inner stuff. I aspired to bring change into my life, and that is what is happening. I’m liking what I see but I am liking what a feel even more.
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.