I wanted to write this yesterday. I just thought it would be funny to write it today because I was humming ‘Yesterday’ yesterday.
I did little to no work yesterday. I should have, of course. It’s the sort of thing that gets drilled in your head after a while.
Instead, I went to the library and perused their selection of cookbooks. On my lonesome, I cuddled up to a book on pork and, then, a book about Japanese fusion cooking.
What is the right thing to do after spending inordinate amounts of time at the library (and getting there)? The answer, I think, is to study there or return home and work.
I chose to get lost. This was (mostly) unintentional as I let a bus that would have taken me straight home drive past. I took a free bus that I vaguely knew would take me to Central.
I didn’t get off at the right spot.
So, I meandered down George St. and did a lot of thinking. Well, heck, the whole of yesterday was devoted to quiet and thinking interspersed with bars of humming.
I’ve worn my feet down. My ankles and the arches of my feet are still whinging against the pressure of the ground. I don’t think they want to do that sort of thing anymore.
But they’ll have to because I liked it. I liked yesterday.
Maybe it’s the way my mind draws parallels between my quiet and the tranquility of not knowing and not caring. I don’t know. I haven’t figured that out yet.
I think I’ll leave that to another day.