I feel a bit foggy today – Last night (or way early this morning) I was woken up by a shattering thunderstorm that felt like it was coming right through my windows. Lighting and thunder happening simultaneously – enormous crashes – enormous flashes – I cringed in my bed, loving every single second of it. But I woke up, for some reason, in this vague fog.<\/p>\n
I have a lot of personal work to do. I am percolating, I guess you could say. Sometimes before<\/i> I actually get down to some serious work, I have a period of rather vague behavior. I wander about my apartment. I cook an enormous amount of food and box everything up neatly in Tupperware. I did that last night at around 11, 11:30. I was cooking like a mad-woman at 11:30. I re-arrange the medicine cabinet. I watch my Eddie Izzard tape for the 20th time. All very vague with no discernible pattern.<\/p>\n
I’ve come to recognize it now.<\/p>\n
It’s actually NOT vague, all evidence to the contrary.<\/p>\n
What is it, then?<\/p>\n
It’s me getting ready to get down to work. It’s like a cat circling and circling and circling and circling in the same spot, before curling up and going to sleep.<\/p>\n
So what’s on my mind right now? A mish-mash.<\/p>\n
— My brother.<\/p>\n
— My deadline. Internal and external. Clock ticking away.<\/p>\n
— Going to Princeton tomorrow night. Making train arrangements. A friend of mine is playing Eliza Doolittle in “My Fair Lady” at the McCarter Theatre<\/a>, and tomorrow is “press night”.<\/p>\n — Rasputin is on my mind. What is the DEAL with Rasputin?<\/p>\n — I need to get another book shelf. I am already overflowing.<\/p>\n — I need to buy a set of wine glasses.<\/p>\n — I’m hosting Girl Group on Friday night. (Girl Group: 8 women, all of us dear friends, get together once a month. Rotating apartments.) It will be my first hostess moment in the new digs. Must cook. Must prepare. Do not know when I will find the time.<\/p>\n — For the past 6 days, my radio alarm clock has woken me up with Sheryl Crow’s new song “The First Cut is the Deepest”. Literally – every single morning. It’s been like Groundhog Day.<\/p>\n — The song touches me so much (and also there’s the weirdness of being bombarded with it every day – and I had never heard it before either) – that I went out and bought the CD. Cat Stevens wrote the song. (Isn’t his name something like Krishnamurti now?) My jaw dropped. No wonder it touches me. Great <\/b>song.<\/p>\n — I need to get more plants. I want my apartment to overflow with green.<\/p>\n — I have booby-trapped my entire apartment with positive energy. Everywhere I look is something beloved and something personal. It gives my apartment a little bit of a “wow, a really crazy person lives here” vibe, but that’s okay with me.<\/p>\n — I need to read Franny and Zooey again. It’s time. But something in me resists. It’s a radical book.<\/p>\n — I glance at the newspapers fearfully as I walk to work. I don’t want to talk about that.<\/p>\n — I want to do another Commonplace Book day on my blog. You people are all just the best, for reading all that stuff, and commenting.<\/p>\n — I really MUST get down to some real work.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I feel a bit foggy today – Last night (or way early this morning) I was woken up by a shattering thunderstorm that felt like it was coming right through my windows. Lighting and thunder happening simultaneously – enormous crashes … Continue reading