A time to relax from busi-ness and getting-things-done and goals and the horse whip.
A time to take a break, ideally take a break, from it all.
At least, I should be able to realize this ideal given that I have no responsibilities, etc. Of course, since I'm not really settled in yet, that's not entirely true; I'm not yet past the stage of budgeting a few hundred dollars each month for household improvements. I'm trying to transition, with varying levels of success, from "poor college student status" to "low-income but independent from food stamps and social security" status.
What are Sundays for such a one? Well, to date, all the housework I neglect during the weekend in which I go out and about to supply myself for my needs in goods and gear. And if I have time left over from that, to peer up at some vast intellectual mountain with its jagged peaks covered in mist, shift my feet, and wonder which of those trails leads to the top.
I decided not to continue Hegel; I think I've gone as far as I'm going to get with him. The book open in front of me now is Wojtyla's "The Acting Person". Yays: more phenomenologies!"*
It's raining peacefully, the wind is tearing through it like a three-year-old through TP and messing it all up. Thomas Tallis is radiating equally peacefully from the pandorabox.**
*"Glutton for punishment", the library gnomes snicker as they disappear round the corner of the stacks.
** When am I going to get off this filler kick? It's not that things haven't been happening, it's just that my Muse seems to be gagging on something....
1 comment:
Heh. Yeah, I think my Muse choked to death. I attempted to give her the heimlich maneauver but her tender nature couldn't support it. I would write her a pretty epitaph but . . . well . . . you know . . .
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