“Ignorant people think it is the noise which fighting cats make that is so aggravating, but it ain’t so; it is the sickening grammar that they use.” ~ Mark Twain
“There is a great difference between one idler and another idler. There is someone who is an idler out of laziness and lack of character, owing to the baseness of his nature. If you like, you may take me for one of those. Then there is the other kind of idler, the idler despite himself, who is inwardly consumed by a great longing for action who does nothing because his hands are tied, because he is, so to speak, imprisoned somewhere, because he lacks what he needs to be productive, because disastrous circumstances have brought him forcibly to this end. Such a one does not always know what he can do, but he nevertheless instinctively feels, I am good for something! My existence is not without reason! I know that I could be a quite a different person! How can I be of use, how can I be of service? There is something inside me, but what can it be? He is quite another idler. If you like you may take me for one of those.” ~ Vincent van Gogh
After a visit to the car mechanic yesterday it was predominantly relative idleness and sleep. Lately, I’ve had a strong urge for more sleep than I am used to. So be it. It’s been almost like a craving, and I have been indulging as a whim. No explanation necessary, let’s do it anyway. There has been no detachable changes from my compliance with this whim, or pseudo-whim, if you will. But I’ll likely do it again today. The visit to the mechanic was fulfilling. I found the service to be impeccable, in contrast to a couple of horror stories about the place. You never know. The repairs were quite less expensive than I expected, those expectations likely born of chronic anxiety and some strand of lingering pessimism. Lingering pessimism? Yeh. Lately I’ve drifted into this space where I am neither pessimistic nor optimistic. I suspect that this space is kinda sorta equanimity’s sidecar. I am flat out not proud enough of myself to lay claim to actual equanimity, and yet I am pretty good at it. That’s a conundrum. Or a paradox? Whatever. I’ll always remember a woman coworker at the animal shelter who one day looked at me with a tinge of fear in her eyes as she said “I can never tell what you are feeling”. Hmmm. And although I did not say it I was like all why would you want to. Isn’t that what intuition is for? Anyway. A friend from my shelter days was at the mechanic shop yesterday. I was sitting on a bench out front of the place, chatting with a lawyer fella from yonder in Austin, Texas, when my friend walked up. My friend is still an avid volunteer at the shelter. We fell into shelter gossip, and healthy commentary as well. The lawyer sat and listened. A bit later, after the conversation drifted back to the lawyer, he stopped at one point and asked “I heard you guys talking just a few minutes ago. Do you both volunteer at a a rehab?”. I don’t know why that sticks with me. Anyway, moving forward until we are at the end of the day and the cows have all come home and . . . ummmm . . . I go back to the mechanic this morning to get one more issue resolved; they had to order a part from out of town. The exhaust leak was totally minor and the repair will cost little beyond the labor. As big as my financial fears were, I am humbly reminded that my faithful car has long been good to me. The Ford Focus is well-known for its reliability. I am breathing a sigh of metaphorical relief. As for the shelter, it’s as much of an unnecessary mess as it ever was. It’s a shame too. Them doggies and kitty cats have enough stress as it is. C’est la vie, it is what it is, que sera sera, whatever. My time there was predominantly about being of service to the animals. That said, this ramble is coming to an end, so I can go out and look at the mountains before the sun crests the summits. Hey! I just noticed that when they say “at the end of the day” they never say which end. I’ll hafta look into that.
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.