Yesterday's rambling jeremiad having occasioned no response, I leave off the subject of art and craft for the mundane subjects which define our day to day lives.
I woke up in the middle of the night riven by anxiety. About what? About everything. Tried to solve problems in play in head, but that didn't help. Four hours later, I fell into a weird sleep. Dreamed I was invited to help do rewrite on schlock sci-fi screenplay for low budget movie being produced by my boss at tutoring company and Matthew Broderick. Dream consisted of me sitting silently through long meeting with members of movie team. Meeting took place at a building somewhere on the campus of Harvard. Woke up at 10 to loud howling. The cat had crossed onto our porch, I assume, an offense Bink cannot and will not forgive (despite its happening eight times a day).
I haven't been reading enough for the last few days. I left off doing a page a day of the Paradisio (as Dante gets higher in the heavens, it gets both more difficult and less entertaining. And it wasn't that entertaining from the start) for Crime and Punishment, a book I disliked immensely the last time I read it, in college. This time around I'm finding much in it to appreciate. I've never cared much for Dostoevsky, but this experience is making me reconsider. Should I try and reread The Brothers Karamazov? That would be a project. We'll see.
Review of new Geoff Dyer book (a collection of short pieces and reviews) in New York Times piqued my interest. Among the pieces described was one about touring with the 50 year-old members of Def Leppard. That sounds pretty great. Maybe I'll read it.
Okay, muffins in the oven (I now make low fat blueberry muffins twice a week, since they're a great, non hypoglycemia inducing snack). Have to go attend to them.