Flashes of Panic

It’s not that I don’t have anything to say. It’s that I don’t find any of it very interesting. I’ve spent the day wobbling back and forth between magnetic resonance imaging and a particularly exacting sampler disc, and pretty much everything else that has crossed my mind seems either too complicated to get a grip on, or too trivial to talk about. (I know, that’s never stopped me before.) Maybe the time to think about things and the opportunity to write about them will overlap in a few days.

Yesterday, swimming in Puffer’s, there were sections that were cold, but there were other large pools within the pond that were as warm as bath-water from the sun, and I could reach down through them and touch the cold layer underneath.

Now playing: Happiness by Elliott Smith