Sagittarius 15° (December 8)
Sometimes you don’t choose a day off it chooses you. Besides getting a little cleaning done I just couldn’t look at any work today. For starters, not having eyeglasses is definitely a deterrent. I suppose it might have been foolish on my part not to make the most of the hours I had to myself but I’m just really wiped out and more than anything I needed to catch up on just some simple home work. If you’re reading the less than earth-shattering Blagues over these past few days, you may sense I’m not that creatively inspired and I don’t have a lot to say. These are the times in the past when I would just not bother showing up to write anything, but then I get behind and it tends to make me feel a bit depressed. So at the risk of boring the pants off of everybody (or anybody) I’m just going to sit here and type stuff. I guess I should be grateful that I had a forced shutdown; my sinuses are always a barometer for being run down; and they are a bit achy breaky right now. So I know I need to slow it up.
I haven’t been on social media, like at all, and I need to get back out there doing some end of year promotion. I just get so disheartened on social media. Everyone in their wee corners facing out, cameras on them. Nobody seems to take anything in; or care to help one another it seems to me. It isn’t about connection at all but a sort of serial isolation; which I can’t help but think mirrors the wider isolationism associated with populism and the larger context of the world right now which seems in such terrible disarray. But where I could go down a rabbit hole I resent having to do so, thus I won’t. It’s just not worth it. Now is about rallying forces and pulling some rabbits out of hats.
I did manage to do another round of eblasts as need be; focusing on show and then I’ll focus back on books. But much of my morning (like most days) is negotiating the idiosyncrasies of living life as we do so remotely out on Cape Cod. Like, for instance, we have no dishwasher. Also any white clothing wash comes out blue. Iron in the pipes that erodes the copper of the pipes? That is the prevailing theory anyway. Also we separate our plastics from glass from paper from trash (which leaves very little trash) the organic bits of which we can compost; and so the trunk of my old Mercedes is like a way station en route to the next dump run; and as we rarely have any trash to speak of, when it does accumulate, it will so in a tiny white bags which we then call “carbage” and there is a note, on the kitchen blackboard, reminding us to take any carbage with us when we might be passing a public trash bin. Remember there is no food in it so you don’t need to lecture. Okay, maybe there is the odd chicken carcass but they are few and far between. We will “store” any such discards in the freezer and we will properly dump trash at the dump in the designated purple bags if we have a sudden large accumulation of it.
It can all be very OCD making which, when added to all the bits and bobs I must tackle in the normal course of any day can indeed lead to some pretty partcicular behavior on my part. I just got the most violent urge for fish and chips if you can believe it. Why wouldn’t you be able to believe it? Growing up we had an Arthur Treachers near where we lived summers at the Jersey Shore. So many versions of my lives. So many larger acts for large spates of years that evoke such feeling and are not only faded but so completely lost never to be recaptured in any way shape or form.
To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree of the Sabian Symbol may be higher than the one listed here as the symbols cluminate in the next degree. There are 360 degrees spread over 365 days.
Typos happen—I don’t have time or an intern to edit.*
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