Time Off For Bad Behaviour

Took some time off from this space.  Sometimes, you just don’t have anything to say that feels worth recording, even for yourself.  And, since this space is really just for me, blathering at myself about nothing of interest is really beyond pointless.  Sometimes, there’s a curve to useful thinking that feels almost like the legendary biorhythm that determines how shitty you feel in any 23-day segment.  Up and down.  A trough of a week where you are basically some kind of human tuber fit only for Netflix.

I tried to circumvent this cycle by vanishing off into Europe and getting blind drunk in new and pretty places for a few days.  All I have to show for that is the social record of a grim hangover and probably another month shaved off my already-shaky life expectancy.  Staring out of plane windows and asking myself questions I can’t yet answer.  Which is, at least, the beginning of thinking.

You know those awful people who say, “It’s October already!  Christmas in two months!”?  Well, it’s early October and I’m trying to see ahead to 2016. It’s one of my less appealing traits.  Assembling the questions and trying to write them down here for myself, because I don’t have anyone else to ask. That’s why hermits go mad: they fill up with questions and have nobody to ask them to.

Hello from out here on the Thames Delta.