We’ve been camped out in the living room since sometime last night. It’s kind of interesting to look back on a 24 hour period and think about what events filled it. I saw a water heater shoot sparks a couple of feet from me. I felt my fingers ache from piano because I never bother to do stretches or scales (the biggest curse of teaching yourself piano is it’s so easy to skip parts you don’t like). I stood in the rain. I woke up at 5 or 6 yesterday morning to go fetch a horse that had wandered out into the yard. I cleaned up a huge pile of junk that had been piling up around our house. I skipped a meal. I ate four slices of cold pepperoni pizza after the house was quiet and I was trying to keep alert and busy. And I don’t like pepperoni. But I love pizza. (BTW, it was not one of those frightening pizzas where you can wipe a napkin across the top of the cheese and fry something in it.
At least, I think I did all those things in the last 24 hours. Sometimes the lines blur between days. In a way, sunsets and sunrises represent that blurry line. There’s no fine line between the light and dark. It isn’t like a lightswitch, you touch something lightly with your finger and in a flash your surroundings have changed, as well as your perspective of time and distance.
In days, there are blur periods were it’s really an in-between.