Musings and Uncertainty

I woke up with a splitting headache. I rolled over and looked at the clock with less than open eyes and glared at my clock - hurrah, it was 5:30 in the morning and I had been asleep for three hours. And then I couldn't get back to sleep for a long time - the headache had happened to me before. It tends to attack every couple of months after a period of extreme sleep loss and then my body decides that it will now not allow me to sleep at all. And so I toss and turn and turn and toss until I convince myself that I must have Tylenol. And herein lies the problem - you see, I don't have Tylenol in my house and no place is open at 5:45 in the morning - so I tell myself that I can do it and try to sleep and relax into dreaming. Eventually I get Tylenol. I've already left a note that I'm not feeling well and am taking the morning off, as I collapse into my bed the headaches steel bands are loosening and my body is gratefully falling into sleep. I won't wake up until noon.

The snow has fallen all day long. Contrary to the idiot weather man who said that it was supposed to be done by 1 pm. I hope he starts carrying a bow-and-arrow. But its Monday night and I desperately need to go shopping. So I leave, pushing my way through the flurries, hoplessly hoping that my lights will reach further than 25 ft away. I make the trip in reasonable time - the roads are surprisingly good - then eat at the E.Coli factory. After shopping and gassing and eating and driving and shaking and desiring. I returned home. I then cleaned for almost an hour - boxes were destroyed, I cleaned my refrigerator, cleaned up Christmas trash, discovered that I need extensions cords, moved most of my clothes, cleaned the kitchen, set up the vacum, set up the dvd player, swept, wiped down and generally made a nuisance of myself. Then I realized that the Globes were useless, predictable people with prosaic phrases organized into dull speeches with boring clothes and stupid announcers. but sam fisher was not. And so I slept.

Children are interesting. It has been often said that children have the purest outlook on life. They get excited that their sister uses the training potty and sleeps in a real bed. I wonder if its possible for adults to ever enjoy that wonder at the world. Too much of life is devoted to car registration, worrying over schools, pleasing people, working. Where is the excitement that comes with the way the ice froze on the windowpane? Is it a bad thing that the adult brain becomes focused? Is it any less serious to be simple-minded than it is to be driven? Ambition is a hard taskmaster - but it is an accepted one. While musing over aviator's and blue t-shirts, while considering cannonballs, in view of screwdriver sets and broken castors, consider the icy windowpane.