I don’t think I’m going to do an update for this Friday. I’d rather keep my work a secret, vexing as it is.
Looks like I’ll be traveling again. Kiss the weekend goodbye. Events that can’t be missed and the misery of return to one’s home town again. I know some people enjoy travel. I suppose I like trains. What I never liked about traveling, and I’ve done a fair amount of it through my life–almost entirely against my will–is depending on some foreign body to get me to my destination, whether train or plane or whathaveyou. Maybe I’ve just learned not to trust other people, or maybe it’s the misery of being around other travelers. They always crowd around the terminal like a legion of flies circling the presented turd of a house-kept animal. Makes me nervous. Then there’s all the waiting, time accompanied with similarly miserable travelers, and there just isn’t the time to enjoy the folly of your own thoughts. It’s one of the reasons I prefer to drive nowadays, that and I don’t want to be beaten and dragged, with a smashed nose and palate, from my rented seat. There’s not one flyer that doesn’t engage in this practice; it’s just that United got videotaped doing it.
I had a class in university, one I actually rather liked–with a teacher as serious about the subject matter as she was about the contributions of her own students–where we studied the “Essay” as a delivery of anecdote occasionally as argument. Makes it more comfortable to just rant tangentially and hope for the best. It’s a strategy I sometimes fall into when I don’t know what to write next. Speaking of, I’m at a loss at the moment, but hopefully that condition won’t last long. Anyways, I keep myself busy. The glory of rest is actually boredom, so bored you want to get back to work. People spend their free time shamefully, obliterating the hours of the weekend and the vacation. It’s madness. Let the muscles relax; get bored; get back to work.