I recently re-happened upon Stanley Bing's blog and enjoyed reading some of his material. It had been awhile since I had read Bing, and so the return of that joy was tempered by my own realization that I had not bothered to enter a single thing on our own blog for over a month. It's not as if we haven't had much going on; we've been just as busy as ever. I just haven't felt much like anything I have to offer is of value. And so I'm sorely tempted to just have a moment of stream-of-consciousness writing.
Why do they call it "stream" of consciousness? It's more like a trickle, really, like that little bead of water slowly making its way down a windowpane after it rains. Heads in one general direction (down) but, oops, just now veered right, then left, obeying its own impulses. Well, if beads of water had impulses. Or warp drives, for that matter. Although could you imagine the carnage if raindrops fell at the speed of light, or greater? A tiny chunk of ice destroyed a space shuttle; the momentum of a raindrop at c would be just ridiculous. Tiny mass, immense velocity. All speed, no vector, at least that's how it feels sometimes around the office. Not "The Office," mind you, but the one I work in, or try to, weekdays. And lately a couple of weeknights, and if Dave's right, a weekend day may be in my future this weekend. I do appreciate what Secretary Baldridge did for America, but this writeup for the Baldridge Award is not going as well as it needs to. It doesn't yet "sing," and unfortunately it's my job to make it sing. Which is what I'm pondering doing for Redeemer's Song; they need another male vocalist (desperately; there are five women at the moment) probably moreso than they need a fourth-string drummer. But if I can't keep the beat, maybe I can keep to the right key. Unless that key's the one to the Sable, which will be handed over to Debi and Courtney this summer when at least Courtney arrives for summer duty. Until she gets used to NoVA traffic, I expect there'll be a lot of time spent at the pool--which is fine, and better than just going down to the stream behind the house. Hey, maybe I should write something in "stream-of-consciousness" sometime.
Like how I came full circle with that?
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