Life is rough, when you’re trying to have fun and life’s business unwittingly throws wrenches in the works.
Last night, I anticipated a great day of vacation today. Often, the last day of a vacation period is the most fruitful. But I got an email that required phoning, which postponed settling into reverie. This was followed by the expectation that another call was coming soon, because a process wasn’t finished. So that expectation got in the way. Then the call came, and the primate on the other end seemed incompetent, requiring calls elsewhere.
And so, my morning and early afternoon were like any ordinary day, not allowing me to make of it something special. Not until early evening had I found my zone again. The time was good—but much too short.
That’s OK, ordinarily. I’m quite good at coping with aesthetic disappointment. Another day. But I so wanted to have something really rewarding to me to share.
In good time.
Last night on the hill, I got a pleasant reverie I hadn’t gotten in awhile, because no one was running the track, and fog wasn’t covering the bay. Stars out. I had a delightful play of associations, very rewarding.
Then suddenly, a flashing missle of light a quarter mile down in front of me, squealing, and explosion into a spherical plume of fireworks. Jocks yelling. I forgot what I was thinking.
But I got it back, and I made good notes when I got back to my place, because I had time to stay up late.
The older I get, the more I feel like an extraterrestrial (old story).