Cold and Avian-Free

The moon had gone, and I stood in the quiet chill watching the stars, when I realized that I've heard fewer waterfowl this year than last. I remember how frequently they filled the night with their calls last year. It might have been the relative mildness of that winter, which encouraged them to make nocturnal excursions to the mountain lakes. This year, they must be remaining close to their valley marshlands, because of the cold. Of course, I'm spending less time outdoors myself, so maybe I'm just less likely to be out when they pass. I miss hearing them.

I miss being able to feel my toes when I've been out for more than a few minutes, too. Toes are very useful for maintaining balance when walking. Some thicker socks might be a good idea, though they would never make up for bad circulation. If I could find a way to transfer Sluggo's excess heat to my hands and feet, then we would both be better off. I fear that, in the absence of such a technology, we are an incompatible couple. Someday we will part. He will go someplace perpetually cold, and I will go to Honolulu. But I get custody of the journal. Sluggo can keep Windows. I'll send him an e-mail once in a while, but he'll crash, and lose it. The relationship was doomed from the start.

A few days ago, the phrase "blague-o-sphere" came to me. Then I thought up "Slashdotards." I think I'm due for a third. I wonder what it will be?

I keep intending to go to bed before morning light, and things keep interfering. Oddly, I actually felt sleepy about four o'clock this morning, but didn't take advantage of it. Maybe that was a mistake. Now I feel wide awake. I'm going to bed anyway. I will think dull thoughts (as easily done as said, for me) and maybe the mood will come back.

Annoyance

I must say that I haven't been particularly pleased with my performance of late. It's always been a struggle for me to remain focused, but lately I've been having a hard time even coming up with anything to focus on. This is likely, in part, to be the result of the numerous disruptions with which reality has been providing me, but there is something else as well- something on which I can't quite... well, focus. This is another of those times when I feel as though my brain's program had been coded by Bill Gates. All it wants to do is crash. It's been a long time since I've written a long entry here, and I'm growing annoyed with all these repetitive little snippets- speaking of which;

Meanwhile, in the real world, I've been going outdoors all evening without a jacket, and barely shivering. It's still cold out, but after the chilling by bones have gotten in the last few weeks, it feels almost balmy. The waxing moon is bright among faded stars, and not a cloud is there to reflect its light. Early this morning, a few minutes after posting about the lack of waterfowl this year, a flock of geese flew overhead. I'd like to hear more. Maybe they'll tell me what to say, so I can quit boring myself.