It’s one of those Blog Block days.
Most mornings I start writing before I wake up, before I open my eyes, before I get out of bed. I narrate my own dreams. Sometimes I even go back to the beginning and edit some scenes. My head is full of garbled nonsense which makes perfect sense to my semi-conscious brain. I find myself delightfully interesting when I’m asleep, and not quite so brilliant when I’m awake. Because when I sit down and try to translate what I’ve been thinking and put the thoughts into some kind of sane order, all the ideas go rushing off in different directions, scatter to the wind, lost forever.
And all that is just a long winded attempt at saying that I can’t think of anything to say. Except that maybe I’ve been watching too many movies and reading too many books.
In a book I was reading last night there’s a part where a guy (who is subject to hallucinations) is bending over a bike rider who has just been hit by a vehicle and he is trying to find the man’s pulse. The bike rider is moving his head, gesturing with his hands, trying to speak, and bleeding profusely all over the place and YOUR’E LOOKING FOR A PULSE??? Moron. But maybe hallucinations don’t make sense either, because the next day he sees the guy off riding his bike again. I also watched the movie “Horrible Bosses” which has a way-over-the-top story line and is hilariously funny. Great acting too. I don’t think there’s any scenes in that one that I’d edit out. But the idea of killing one’s boss coupled with the accident victim vision may not have been one of the most restful sleep-inducing things in the world.
Today is my son’s 36th birthday. It is the anniversary of the Beatle’s first U.S. tour in 1964 (twelve years before he was born.) It is Wave All Your Fingers At Your Neigbour Day. I swear I am not making these things up. I suppose waving all your fingers is a better plan than waving just one, even if your neighbours have the yappiest little floor mop dog on the face of the earth.
Enough rambling for now – I’m off to work where I’ll let my creative juices stew all day long – or fester some more, or whatever they’ve been doing.
Scott Adams is my hero. He puts the workplace insanity into such lucid perspective. Too bad I can’t do the same thing with my crazy dreams. Maybe it’s a really good thing that I don’t remember half of them. Otherwise I’d write them down and someone for sure would call me a moron. Or at least have one more good reason to do that.