Nothing Much

Let us now whinge…

I don’t know if itʼs the heat, or if I just encountered too many things to be doing (mowing the lawn, running errands, diddling the day away), but I just havenʼt written too much during my current, enforced vacation. That would, of course, include posts for the blog. I had half-anticipated (at least while falling asleep one day over the weekend) dictating the rest of “Mistakes by Moonlight” and thereby feeling I had completed something of note. Evidently just a dream.

However, itʼs only Wednesday! Who knows what the rest of the week will hold? (Unfortunately, me, and I predict the blog, at least, will not profit from my activities ahead.)

I have been waxing political on Facebook and even delightfully alliterative in response to unresponsive commentary. But Facebookʼs just Facebook (I think thatʼs why all oneʼs past links, posts and comments vanish into nonexistence toward the bottom of the page). So we canʼt count that activity as real writing, although Iʼd like to.

Hereʼs the kind of thing with which can fill my time — I was fascinated to discover that the blog had been visited by someone in Carrickfergus, a town well-beloved by, like me, fans of Irish sea chanties.

Which brings us to this bit of blather today. Although my brainʼs been churning with many things, only some of them political or economic, I have been finding it very hard to sit myself down and seriously accomplish even a session of dictation as random as this. Excessive heat? Only later yesterday and starting about two hours ago today. Writerʼs block? One would actually have to have written something to get blocked, and I havenʼt done that. But I have been (periodically) busy…

Yesterday, for instance, having done nothing from 7:30 until nearly 10:00 in the morning (besides wasting time online), I did spend somewhat over two hours mowing the lawn, a task which had become necessary, after three weeks of drought, when we received possibly up to seven inches of rain. (At least thatʼs an amount I was told by someone in a store somewhere around the community; and a bucket that The Lovely One likes to hang from the knob of her Door to Nowhere, located this year against the concrete wall below the back of our garage, was nearly full when I was clearing the yard to prepare to mow yesterday.) And now today I still have yet to take the sticks, raked-up grass clippings and other yard waste to the city’s compost dump — not an unpleasant chore but somehow I actually flogged myself to attempt this instead, interestingly…

— But back to yesterday, supposedly my topic currently! In the afternoon, at any time after 12:30, which had already passed before I was done mowing, I was to donate blood, having missed two earlier opportunities this summer, thanks to work (and forgetfulness). That (for once, selfless) procedure killed an hour until after 3:00 when I needed to visit Janetʼs hairdresser for a tube of conditioner she had neglected to take away with her after our haircuts last Thursday and to reset our next appointment so we would be free to be directing the play to which she committed us more than a year ago, which begins with auditions in just about a week. Then a stop at the doctor’s office to drop off the blood pressure readings from my blood donation, and then away to the grocery store for some supplies. Once home again, I spent an hour making supper, using some of those supplies, sweating profusely this entire time because (as I suggested above) the day had turned decidedly hot and humid — probably not as hot nor as humid as almost every day last week, but pretty uncomfortable anyway. And mysteriously, all too soon, while I was making Janet’s lunch for today, she was home from her workout, and our evening together got started, even with nothing on TV.

Now I loosely held plenty of time during the day that I could have churned out something as miserable, vacuous and self-centeredly uninformative as this particular post seems to be, but my time here in the office at the computer was not productive of any such activity, merely checking plenty of stuff on Facebook, on e-mail and otherwise online.

So there we are — nothing doing from this nothing much. Yet again. (At least I didnʼt wane politically philosophical here…)

©2011 John Randolph Burrow, Magickal Monkey Enterprises, Ltd, S.A.

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