May. 3rd, 2004

Dullard

May. 3rd, 2004 05:17 am
rejectomorph: (gericault_the raft of the medusa 2)
A balmy night -- particularly one on which the lit moon is almost perfectly round -- is highly conducive to sloth, both physical and mental. It invites one to spend whatever spare moments are available in the contemplation of the utterly trivial, and to laze about, accomplishing nothing. The stacks of books unearthed by my recent fit of cleaning remain unread. The basket of laundry remains undone. I lacked even the motivation to put a tape in the VCR. Every thought I've had tonight has wafted away, leaving no trace. I feel as insubstantial as the pale moonlight. I don't even care that I know from experience that this state is but one step removed from ennui, and that ennui is but one step from despair. Once again, I think I shall blame the lack of rain. The monotony of warm, dry days has left my imagination undernourished. My world might disintegrate around me and I would merely sigh and think Ah, well, so it's over. I am drugged with indifference. A nice thunderstorm might reinvigorate me, but none are in sight. I'll go to sleep now, and see if I wake up this afternoon. Should I sleep for a week, I'd probably not care. Hah. And this is my favorite time of year!

Still Hot

May. 3rd, 2004 10:03 pm
rejectomorph: (hopper_summer_evening)
Roses by the dozen have exploded from the bushes in the back yard. Some were spoiled, as they were dampened while budding in the light rain last week, but others are large and bright, particularly the pinks on the tallest bush. It is the best display they've given in years.

The last cat has been fed, and has gone out to explore the evening. She sniffs at the zinnias growing where the other three cats are buried, then vanishes though a gap in the fence. She'll be out most of the night, as is her wont when the season grows warm. The moon will be full, too, so there ought to be good hunting. Her night is apt to be more interesting than mine. I might get some reading done, and maybe sort through some old video tapes to see which of them I can get rid of. There is still too much stuff in the house.

I certainly won't be spending much time with Sluggo. He ran for twenty minutes this afternoon before crashing. The house grows hotter for a few hours after sunset, and now I can probably count on no more than ten minutes to post this entry. Since there will not be sufficient cooling until almost dawn, I probably won't get more than an hour out of him for the rest of the night, in two sessions. Sluggo needs his own little air conditioned closet to live in. He won't get one.

Off to look at the stars for a while, and let Sluggo nap.

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