A Little Shove

Quarter of eight.

There are things I should do, but I put them off for lack of inspiration. Yesterday morning I did a load of dishes and even took them out to dry. Mostly I’m just a lazybones and a homebody, living in my imagination and vicariously with books. I usually consider myself a realist, yet realists are more active and engaged with the world than a pipe dreamer like me… It’s amazing to see things and people change over time, as if no stability held sway at all. Just enough gravity to keep the earth in its orbit. The same gray cat hangs out in my backyard every morning and leaves around this time. I get the growing feeling that I need music in my life, in any capacity at all. For that reason I’d be willing to attend church today. This happens to be Bloomsday; I almost forgot. I only got to read Ulysses because a professor was kind enough to lead students through it, saying it was his public service. At 93, he was still fixed on the same book, so the book is inexhaustible… The forecast says rain by three o’clock. If I go to church, I might get wet. I vacillate a lot on church attendance; if I think too much then it won’t happen.