Started two blog posts over the weekend: one on aging and another about a Seinfeld episode that reminded me of my father. They shall remain in posting purgatory until I can make them funnier. I know, Seinfeld is already funny, so what's the problem? It's complicated, trust me; anything involving my dad is never easy unless humor is injected. Sometimes the funny is hard to find where he's concerned. The aging post was about how I innocently purchased something online, which resulted in a flurry of senior citizen retailers badgering me via email.
Yesterday, I came to the conclusion that I am thoroughly sick of TV. I am not equipped with the male mentality of clicking the remote indefinitely or watching mindless drivel. There must be something worthwhile that’s funny, educational, or animal-related, or I have no interest in watching. Meandering into the study, I decided to ponder how I spend my free time. Snuggling with Sparky and a blanket, I settled into the cozy leather recliner to look out the window and think. Of course Izzy soon became jealous, so it ended up being the 3 of us, which caused some quarreling until everyone found their place.
I came to the realization that my mind is constantly being fed through TV and internet, rendering me practically incapable of having my own creative thoughts or allowing me to express myself. This revelation was disconcerting. Maybe that’s why I’ve sought out photography, instinctively realizing that I need to create, produce, DO. Idleness is not my friend.
Double D came in and sat down at the computer across from me to research the laptop he wants for his birthday. He was moving at a snail's pace along the internet superhighway (remember that term?), so I instructed him on how to perform rudimentary searches and showed him how useful “tabs” are on our browser. This allowed us some time for brief snippets of conversation. With the idiot box on, simply talking and engaging with each other is not required, so this was a nice change.
During a lull in conversation my eyes scoured the bookcase and landed on “Running with Scissors” by Augusten Burroughs. Purchased several months ago, I had attempted to read it and only lasted one chapter due to trouble focusing. Started the book around 2:00 in the afternoon, left to run a few errands, picked up where I left off on my return, and at 3:00 the next morning I finished the last page. 304 pages y'all!! Disturbing, funny, compelling, gross, wicked and shocking are some of the descriptions that come immediately to mind.
It gave me enormous satisfaction to finish the book. The last time I read a book all the way through in one day, I was probably a pre-teen devouring “Gone With the Wind” or “The Yearling” – my two favorite books as a child. About 5 years ago or so I read “Memoirs of a Geisha” in a matter of days. Oh, and David Sedaris’ “Me Talk Pretty One Day” was a fun, funny, quick read. There are so few books I find worthy of my time anymore.
Two weeks ago my doctor upped my thyroid medication. Known problems with an underactive thyroid gland are the inability to focus and depression. Since starting the new medication, I feel more alert and energetic than I have in years. I detest western medicine and that I must take this chemical, but if it makes me feel better, I will get over it. I have a new hobby, books to read and places to go! Is it the medication or is it Memorex? To be continued....