Current status is: bedridden. Not due to illness or the approach of death (I’m middle-aged now, but I’d like to think I still have sufficient leverage in my negotiations with the Reaper). No. I’m bedridden for self-imposed reasons such as being curled up with a good book (last week I moved all my books/bookcases up to the bedroom), ruminating on a new book idea myself (a rather personal contemporary novel that I hereby code-name PROJECT GHOSTED), playing Solitaire on my phone (I never play games on my phone but recently I got bored enough to down Solitaire the other day), listen to music (probably the moody kind) and since I recently moved a TV and X-Box One up to my bedroom I will be playing games on it as well as watching a movie after dinner — all these things from the comfort of my bed. Yeah, I know, kinda goes against the dictionary’s definition of what it means to be “bedridden” but Roget and company can sue me later. And after another blah worker drone day at work today I’m not much in the mood for conversation with anyone in the house. So here I am. In bed enjoying a little solitude and self-care. And it’s fine. Tomorrow will be a better day, right? Or so say the optimists. I remember when I was card-carrying member of that tribe. Good times.

Photo by Matthew Henry on Unsplash

Now reading: No Walls and the Recurring Dream (2019), a memoir by Ani DiFranco.

Soon watching: FRAGMENTS (2008), directed by Rowan Woods.

Nothing’s Sacred

A library should be a place of quiet but, no, not my local library. Someone gave them the harebrained idea to redesign it with an open concept — no walls — and so now we can hear every noise-generating thing like a gaggle teenagers goofing off over here, and an inconsolable kid crying over there. Without walls the sound travels unimpeded and that has rendered the library as no longer the quiet sanctuary it used to be. Nothing’s sacred.

Today – April 24, 2019

Mont Blanc in Lac Blanc, Chamonix, France – by Simon Fitall

Mountains have done more than I have today. Took the day off work to recuperate after an exciting night of live music, good friends and good times. Old bones need that extra recovery time. It wasn’t until two in the afternoon that I managed to shower, leave my bedroom and actually feed myself. Tomorrow it’s back to the regularly scheduled program of the daily grind. Woe is me.