WRITTEN YESTERDAY:

I’m here, not so much because I want to talk to someone, but because I don’t want to be doing anything else. And I have done some things today, not a whole lot, but housework and, for me, that’s always a bummer.

I thought maybe I’d write more about Chablis, but Holy Moses! when I looked at her house in my mind’s eye, I saw that a meteorite had struck and there was just a big hole. Not really a black hole, but it leaves me in the dark because everything was obliterated. Gone.  That’s the breaks, I guess.

I don’t feel like reading; I feel like doing something different. No, not really; I believe the truth is I don’t want to do anything at all. Well, I think I do want to breathe; I stopped for a bit, but then I realized I really wanted to start it up once more. Oddly enough, I didn’t type when I wasn’t breathing; I was thinking about not breathing. Now that I am thinking about it, I realize that I often type a few words before I take a breath. I suppose my body is using the air I took in at that time, so, in fact, I am still in the process of breathing.

I just sat here for a couple of minutes not typing – breathing though – because I was considering having actually written about something that basic. Is it so basic it’s profound? No, I think I can safely say it is not.

Obviously, I came here unwisely. I think I’ll just let this sit as a draft, while I sit here and breathe.

WRITTEN TODAY:

I am in a phase of quotidian (part of definition that reads: ordinary; commonplace: paintings of no more than quotidian artistry) posts. Not that I ever was better, but, I think, every now and then, I did say something well.  I do not know what to do about it and I have decided I am going to do nothing at all; if this is my blah time and I still feel like writing, so be it.

I (sigh) guess this is a Public Service Announcement.

Having gotten that out of the way, I unapologetically move on to write that the temperature is predicted to be 53 today. This should be a nice change, but there was something restfully inviting about being tucked away in a hermit mode with blankets and peanut butter and reading material.

I’ll have to ease back into the idea of leaving my little cabin. That’s what I’m doing right now – easing.