Sometimes I have nothing to write about, but my fingers itch and there it is.  Just strings of words about a day mostly wasted.  I started to write a deeper musing - on the nature of loneliness.  It would have been a pretty good piece, but I don't think my heart was in it.  I just need to write out (like most bloggings) my day's activities, which happen to be pretty mundane.  I'm so sleepy, but over-sleeped, so the words are fuzzy and I'm not revising anything.  Sorry if it's rough or uninteresting:

During my approximate 6 hours of consciousness today, I cleaned my room.  By which, of course, I mean that I took everything from my shelves and drawers and threw it on my floor, and then attempted to put it all back again in some sensible order, trashing whatever artifacts that have become unimportant or obsolete.  Of course, when I make this daring attempt at cleanliness, I know from the outset that the chance of success is very small.  I have only really thoroughly cleaned my room about twice in my life.  Usually I clean in a furious frenzy for about an hour, and then become distracted by something I find which occupies me for so long that by the time I realize that I’ve stopped cleaning I have lost all my fervor.  And then, of course, I’m left with the entire contents of my room strewn across my floor, with maybe one half of one drawer actually put back.  But the mess doesn’t bother me.  At least I know where everything is; I just have to look down and kick around a few stray shoes and notebooks to find things.

Of course, the part of my day spent unconscious was wonderful.  I took three beautiful naps.  Naps are better than cake.  And they don’t make you nearly so fat, except, I suppose, in that you could have been exercising instead.  But since I am a non-exerciser anyway, I don’t really look at it that way.  And naps are luxurious as well, because you know that people outside of your bedroom are working while you doze.  But like any luxury, if you start to take them for granted you are doomed.  Like today, for instance.  I had already completed two of my three power-naps, and I felt quite proud of my sleeping abilities.  I had been awake for probably two hours, and being unable to stand the awkeness any longer I collapsed into my well-slept bed and initiated the third sleep.  My sister, the considerate, kind girl that she is, picked that moment to practice her out-of-tune guitar very loudly in the adjacent room.  Having taken two naps uninterrupted, I had become used to the luxury and I proceeded to tell her to stop.  She did; I went back to bed; and I would have been lost in mid-day dreams except that the same lovely, thoughtful sister of mine began to vacuum the hall outside my room.  I snapped, and I admit that the words we exchanged were less than sisterly.  I cannot be held accountable for what I say when I am under the influence of too much sleep.  But altogether I learned a powerful lesson.  Can I recall it?  Not at all.



"If I had to choose between knowing everything about the world, or knowing nothing, I would choose ignorance."

I can't decide if I agree.