Well, dear readers, this doesn’t feel much like a Thursday even though it is a Thursday and that is due to the holiday Monday that felt like a Sunday. Like sands through an hourglass, these are the days of our lives and it’s Thursday whether we like it or not. Thursday is the reality and every day we are steeped in reality – steeped, I tell you. I’m not sure I’ve ever used the word steeped before in these here notes, and we’ve been doing this daily for over twenty-four years now. Can it be? Let’s see if I can check. Nope, not one time in all those daily notes for all those yearly years. That’s pretty damn amazing, if you ask me, not that you asked me, but you know you wanted to. Yes, we are steeped in reality every day because how can we not be? Reality is real, after all. Oh, I know some people who are steeped in insanity and insanity is not reality although insanity may be reality to those who are insane. You see, these are existential questions that are steeped in existential philosophy. My philosophy can be summed up in four words: What is it, fish? If that isn’t the key to everything then I don’t know what. Actually, I don’t know what even though what swears we’ve met. What is it, fish, has been the question that all the great thinkers of the world have wrestled with. From Descartes to Nietzsche to Spinoza to Schopenhauer to Kierkegaard to Kant to Heidegger to Wittgenstein to Sartre to Karl and Groucho Marx – what is it, fish has been the enigmas of enigmas, the conundrums of conundrums, and, like the lost chord it is the lost meaning. Yes, they’ve all wrestled with what is it fish, trying the body slam or the choke hold or the figure-four leg-lock, or the drop kick – they’ve tried all the moves, all the holds, all to no avail. Perhaps the most important question that can be asked at this time is: What the HELL am I talking about? I have no clew and yet on I go, word after word, sentence after sentence, until all semblance of cohesion has taken a long walk off a short pier, as my mother used to say to me every day. Take a long walk off a short pier, she’d say. Go play in traffic, she’d say. And my response? What is it, fish? And what was the reason for all this deep-dish thinking? Steeped. Blame it on steeped. Blame it on Rio. Blame it on my youth. Blame it on the bossa nova. But don’t blame me. Let’s move on, shall we?
Yesterday, I got about six hours of sleep due to noise that would have awakened Rip Van Winkle. Tree people and that big machine they shove all their crap into. They started at seven-fifeen, stopped of an hour, during which I got another hour of sleep, but then resumed, relentlessly, until I could stand no more and got up and began answering e-mails. Of course, then it stopped and never resumed. Oh, it would have resumed immediately if I’d gotten back in bed, isn’t that always the way. Anyway, I answered lots of e-mails, ordered a chicken breast and some chicken pasta salad for food. That arrived around noon-thirty and I ate it all up. California Chicken Café is one of the most consistent places to order in from in terms of quality. After that, I did some writing and I’m now ready to move on to the meat of things. This one has a bit of set-up that had to be done and I hope I’ve done that in an interesting way.
Then I got the hard drive back and began checking out the Drat! The Cat! final video – but almost right away I found a mistake that has to be fixed – it was something that didn’t get moved and we didn’t go back to make sure it had been moved. But watching, I also found a couple of other minor things to adjust. But this time it will be much easier and MUCH faster, as I have the exact timestamps where things happen, so he can go right to it and swap out a shot, which is all that we’re basically doing. After that, I had a couple of telephonic conversations, a conversation with a nurse to clarify what the PCP and I will be discussing later today, and then I sat on my couch and dozed off for thirty minutes or so. I didn’t find a movie to watch, so I just did YouTube stuff and kept dozing off anyway. And here we are.
Today, I’ll be up by ten, I’ll futz and finesse the last couple of days’ writing, then I’ll write new pages, then at one-ten I’ll log into the Cedars app on my phone and wait for the doctor to arrive at one-twenty. Our meeting should last about twenty minutes. Then I’ll go pick up whatever’s at the mail place, get something to eat, probably Subway or Gelson’s, come home, eat, write more pages, and then I can watch, listen, and relax.
Tomorrow, I’ll bring the hard drive to the guy who put together the Drat video so he can do the last few things, then he’ll return it to me. I’m thinking I’ll upload it to YouTube as an unlisted video, just to have it there in case I need to share it with someone at some point. Then I’m having a proper meal at a proper restaurant with a proper friend, Saturday can be a ME day, and Sundy I’m supposedly getting a haircut.
Well, der readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, be up by ten, futz and finesse, write, have a video consultation with my PCP, pick up whatever’s at the mail place, get some food to bring home, eat, write more pages, and then watch, listen, and relax. Today’s topic of discussion: Who were/are your favorite philosophers and what in their philosophy appeals to you? Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland, happy to have used a word that has never been used in these here daily notes for over twenty-four years. A premiere word for these here notes. And yes, blame these here notes on steeped.