August 5th, 2006

bazille_summer scene


An ice cream truck is cruising the neighborhood, and I hear its music box (or more likely its electronic equivalent of a music box) periodically, depending on which direction it's headed along the maze of streets. The afternoon is mild, and I've kept my windows open, though it would be better if the temperature were eight or ten degrees lower. This is the sort of summer day that is almost certainly not in league with the devil.

I'd like to say I'm feeling closer to normal, but I'm not. Afternoons are now the very best part of my day. The aches will slowly increase as the hours pass, and about one o'clock in the morning I'm going to be hurting like hell. I'll put off taking the ibuprofen until about four in the morning, because I want it for sleep. There'll be a few drugged hours of partial sleep, then waking up with a headache which will gradually recede, as long as I stay moderately active and don't do anything foolish such as let my butt go to sleep in front of the computer. Shower, rinse, repeat.

The day at the moment is so nice, and I can enjoy it but I can't translate it. I can't think about its elements, but only experience it whole.