Michelangelo sibyl from the Sistine Chapel

 

spec four

Last night after I wrote that sudden emotional outburst of an entry, I turned on the television for the first time in two days. I needed something mindless to distract me and or calm me down. It worked. Actually most of what I wrote for yesterday seems very distant to me now. Of course those quick rants do tend to fade fast and now everything has returned to its more mellow state. I am zen again or at the very least far less agitated.

Instead of watching television for the past few days, I've been reading Going After Cacciato. At the moment the best way that I can describe the book is by saying it's a fictional account of war in the same vain as Slaughterhouse Five. For me both books share a similar approach to the effect of war on men, but instead of Billy Pilgrim as our guide or hero we have Paul Berlin. Both of the authors were in a war, but combine fiction with what they really experienced.

A new person joined my department at work this week, which means that I now have seniority over four people. I guess that is fine with me except that most of them actually know more than I do. Maybe I'm wrong. Time will tell.

The weatherman had said that today would be one final taste of summer before it would start to feel like winter. Tomorrow the temperature is expected to drop thirty degrees, so I wanted to get outside and enjoy it. Unfortunately by the time that I got done with my laundry the idea of going for a ride lost out to the option of sleeping.

 
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