I am a little out of it at the moment because I spent the better part of the afternoon and evening watching all six hours of Angels in America and then re-watching certain scenes to index them for use tomorrow. I am feeling quite deeply embedded in the world of gay men with AIDS in 1980s New York (not to mention their psychedelic-spiritual visions). It’s kind of a weird place to be.
Other than that, my day has been pretty miserable due to my having slept funny the night of the election and given myself a painful crick in my back. Too much excitement? Too much dangerous blue punch? Who can say. All I know now is that sitting or lying still are both perfectly comfortable things to do, yet moving in any way at all is annoyingly painful.
Man, sometimes I wish I could just be a mind in a jar and not have to have a physical body. The body is just so frustrating sometimes, what with all the Sisyphean maintenance and the potential for it to fail you. If I could get someone to come along and carefully unscrew my lid and funnel in some good quality whiskey every now and then, I think jar life would be just fine. Hey, Science, can you get on that for me?