Do You Hear That? Crickets!
Things are going reasonably well. Well, no. The world is an utter mess, but right at this particular instant, I’m doing pretty well, personally. The trick is to keep the scrolling to a minimum. Ain’t much good left on the ol’ Web 2.0 these days, Web3 fizzled out, probably because it was dumb, and WebGPT-4 is gonna be all AI chatbots arguing with other AI chatbots and posting memes humans don’t understand, so you may as well cancel your internet service now.
I spent all of yesterday cleaning my apartment. It sparkles. Sparkles! Hopefully, I can keep it that way without driving myself mad. My objective is to create an environment where people can drop in whenever, so long as that’s before 8:30 pm. I go to bed early.
Today, I’ve done damn near nothing. Or tried my best not to do anything, anyway. I’ve been “relaxing.” I’m not very good at it, relaxing. I like to keep incessantly busy—busy, busy, busy! It keeps my mind off something I forgot all about years ago. I’m practicing chilling out more. I even have a professional doing his best to teach me how not to run at max all the time. I’m a challenge. For sure.
I took a walk around the lake this afternoon. When I got back home, I cooked dinner: far too many extra jumbo shrimp with just enough asparagus. The house smells of shrimp and crushed Aleppo peppers bloomed in butter sauce. Meanwhile, my pee smells of I don’t know what. I ate some excellent watermelon for dessert. Kudos to the Insta-shopper who picked it out for me.1 After dinner (and dessert), I worked on photos, but they’re all kind of blah. I’m still finding my vision here in the suburbs. Mostly, though, I did nothing much at all.
I’m currently winding down the weekend in my backyard2, drenched in picaridin3, posting to my blog here, while I listen to a lively debate held by thousands of crickets. Geese are honking overhead. Fall is not so far off now. I heard an owl hooting last night. An owl. Hooting.
🦉
Footnotes
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I use Instacart for most of my grocery shopping. It saves me a lot of time and energy. ↩
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I have a backyard! ↩
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I neglected to spray my Crocs with mosquito repellent, and so the buzzing bastards launched a brutal assault on my feet. How they managed to breach my wool socks, I’m sure I don’t know.4 ↩
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I’m absolutely wearing wool socks with Crocs. It’s the ‘Burbs, baby! We do that here. ↩