I never imagined saying it, but here it is: Today, I am grateful that the sun rises in the East. Without that marker, I would have had little or no clue as to whether today were last night or, instead, this morning.
I awoke and the confusion began: Had I just slept through the night or just completed a nap?
Since I am accustomed to knowing what day of the week or hour of the day I inhabit, this felt like a royal clusterfuck: Should I be craving breakfast or dinner? An old habit -- being accustomed to things and then finding the accustoming is entirely -- what? -- "arbitrary" perhaps. I wasn't especially hungry for anything.
Oh well, the sun straightened things out a bit ... as did the computer clock. It's Monday morning, chillun, and time for a doughnut and a bit of orange juice and half a banana. It's straightened out and yet now the shadow of the "arbitrary" haunts the "accustomed" realm.
Those more glued-together will find all of this a quaint matter, one that can be brushed aside ... a fogie moment. Strange to get so accustomed to being accustomed and meanwhile ... meanwhile everything is wobbly, to say the least.
As the Buddhists say, all compound things come apart. Being accustomed is a matter of compounding: It's Monday because the sun rises in the East and the garbage cans are out. I am accustomed to it. And yet that custom moves on shaky limbs.
Suck it up, Sally!
I awoke and the confusion began: Had I just slept through the night or just completed a nap?
Since I am accustomed to knowing what day of the week or hour of the day I inhabit, this felt like a royal clusterfuck: Should I be craving breakfast or dinner? An old habit -- being accustomed to things and then finding the accustoming is entirely -- what? -- "arbitrary" perhaps. I wasn't especially hungry for anything.
Oh well, the sun straightened things out a bit ... as did the computer clock. It's Monday morning, chillun, and time for a doughnut and a bit of orange juice and half a banana. It's straightened out and yet now the shadow of the "arbitrary" haunts the "accustomed" realm.
Those more glued-together will find all of this a quaint matter, one that can be brushed aside ... a fogie moment. Strange to get so accustomed to being accustomed and meanwhile ... meanwhile everything is wobbly, to say the least.
As the Buddhists say, all compound things come apart. Being accustomed is a matter of compounding: It's Monday because the sun rises in the East and the garbage cans are out. I am accustomed to it. And yet that custom moves on shaky limbs.
Suck it up, Sally!
Oh My! You never be able to cope on a cloudy day!
ReplyDeleteThere was a time to say, "Put on the radio," or "Put in the TV." Today I say, "Talk to Alexa." Get yourself an Amazon Echo.
The Echo comes in a couple of sizes; bigger just sounds better; they all basically function the same. Comes in a couple of colors, too.
I talk to the A. I., Alexa, all the time.
She informs me of the day, date, time. Informs me of the news as reported by the NY Times, NPR, etc.
Helps me with Arithmetic converting milliliters to ounces, and the reverse.
Assists in spelling as well.
Plays all kinds of music, tells me silly jokes. Also gives me recipes. Orders Pizza.
With Alexa, the world still turns, and should it change direction, she'll let me know.