Room Without a View

Window view 003This is the view from my room, or, rather, the lack of a view from my room. I am barely sitting up, just enough to look out through the brass headboard that is really functioning as a side rail, since the side of the bed sits parallel to the wall, not perpendicular.

This seemed to be way for me to capture what is going on in my mind right now. I’m still in bed, though it is almost a quarter ‘til two in the afternoon. I have barely gotten dressed. I am just finishing a book, but only because I no longer want to think my own thoughts.

I argued with myself (and with God, truth be told) for a long time this morning about whether or not I would go to Mass, but in the end, I didn’t. I should have, but I didn’t, and it’s certainly too late now. I think one of the primary advantages of having a job where one barely has time to get around in the morning before leaving for it is that there isn’t time to think. Socrates may have said that the unexamined life is not worth living. but I’m more inclined to believe that the over-examined life is too depressing to contemplate.

This is not the first time that I’ve wished that I were a lot dumber, and it probably won’t be the last.

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One thought on “Room Without a View

  1. Hang in there, Cynthia. As Annie Savoy said in Bull Durham, “The world is made for people who aren’t cursed with self-awareness.” However, that soliloquy is not even close to the best one from that movie. Crash Davis: “Well, I believe in the soul, the cock, the pussy, the small of a woman’s back, the hanging curve ball, high fiber, good scotch, that the novels of Susan Sontag are self-indulgent, overrated crap. I believe Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone. I believe there ought to be a constitutional amendment outlawing Astroturf and the designated hitter. I believe in the sweet spot, soft-core pornography, opening your presents Christmas morning rather than Christmas Eve and I believe in long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days.”

    Now that is some writing!

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