What Now?
Ever have one of those days where nothing you do seems worth doing?
I mean, there I am, single-handedly saving the world from a giant asteroid collision, then inventing a safe, biodegradable, renewable fuel source for humanity’s benefit, and finally, finishing things off by cooking and serving a totally-organic locally-sourced absolutely-free gourmet meal for dozens of needy men and women down at the homeless shelter, but it still seems so empty, somehow.
I might as well sit on the couch all day, napping and reading trashy novels, not that I have any idea what that might be like.
It’s almost time for school to start again, and I’m savoring these last few days of freedom by carving a full-scale replica of Michelangelo’s “David” out of plastic I’ve salvaged by recycling discarded telephones while simultaneously composing what a New York Times critic who heard the rough version called “Beethoven’s Tenth;” and since I spent the day before yesterday cooking all the dishes in both versions of Mastering the Art of French Cooking, (and then hauling them—hot—by bike, to school cafeterias around town), I’m feeling a bit out-of-sorts, as if there’s something I should or could be doing but I’m not.
Perhaps it’s just the expected letdown after the trip I took last week on my homemade rocketship to repair the International Space Station, but I dunno; maybe I shouldn’t have stayed up so late performing successful open-heart surgery on those infant twins; but then again, their healthy cries afterwards kept me up, anyway.
Maybe I should cancel my appointment with President Obama this afternoon; seems like he’s got the health care thing more or less on track even without the assistance he’s been begging me for.
What I’d really like to do—if only Tiger Woods would be willing to postpone the lesson on putting I’m supposed to give him this evening—is drink some beer and watch the Steelers play.
That’s worth doing, isn’t it?
I mean, there I am, single-handedly saving the world from a giant asteroid collision, then inventing a safe, biodegradable, renewable fuel source for humanity’s benefit, and finally, finishing things off by cooking and serving a totally-organic locally-sourced absolutely-free gourmet meal for dozens of needy men and women down at the homeless shelter, but it still seems so empty, somehow.
I might as well sit on the couch all day, napping and reading trashy novels, not that I have any idea what that might be like.
It’s almost time for school to start again, and I’m savoring these last few days of freedom by carving a full-scale replica of Michelangelo’s “David” out of plastic I’ve salvaged by recycling discarded telephones while simultaneously composing what a New York Times critic who heard the rough version called “Beethoven’s Tenth;” and since I spent the day before yesterday cooking all the dishes in both versions of Mastering the Art of French Cooking, (and then hauling them—hot—by bike, to school cafeterias around town), I’m feeling a bit out-of-sorts, as if there’s something I should or could be doing but I’m not.
Perhaps it’s just the expected letdown after the trip I took last week on my homemade rocketship to repair the International Space Station, but I dunno; maybe I shouldn’t have stayed up so late performing successful open-heart surgery on those infant twins; but then again, their healthy cries afterwards kept me up, anyway.
Maybe I should cancel my appointment with President Obama this afternoon; seems like he’s got the health care thing more or less on track even without the assistance he’s been begging me for.
What I’d really like to do—if only Tiger Woods would be willing to postpone the lesson on putting I’m supposed to give him this evening—is drink some beer and watch the Steelers play.
That’s worth doing, isn’t it?
posted by Professor Dave at 10:03 AM
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