Floofscience

Floofscience (floofinition) – Animal anticipation of the course of events.

In use: “Keri’s pets knew with amazing floofscience when she was going for something to eat, rising wherever they were and meeting her in the kitchen in perfect synfloofnicity.”

A Chaotic Dream

It began with me as a young man. I came into a situation where the atmosphere buzzed with chaos. We were outside. People were everywhere. It seemed like they were all carrying something and were on the run. I looked for signs about where to go: none. I tried talking to people, but all were rushing around like a children on a playground sugar high.

After some bit of this, I managed to see a door and went through it. In there was the information I sought about my role. I was given a tall stack of thick folders. Most were manila folders, but some were red, green, and blue. I started shuffling through them, flipping through pages, assimilating information.

I was to be given a presentation to prepare so that a decision could be made about something, but there was confusion about who was receiving the information and what outcome was desired. I was smiling as I went through the info. I was familiar with all of it. Within a short time, I’d tossed all the folders except two aside. One was a plain manila folder; the other was red with a red and white cover on it, with large block letters in red: 5774.

The 5774 information wasn’t needed for the moment, I decided. That would be used later. First, clean up the presentation. Make it. Get the decision. Then, after that, do the 5774 stuff.

Okay. With that clarified for myself, I pursued that course. A decision was made.

Around me was instantly calmer and more relaxed. People quit rushing. They smiled at one another and started talking.

Okay, good. I went to a car for a rest. Others were heading to a large celebration. I planned to join them but first needed rest.

Others came by to follow up on the decision. I was groggy with sleep and tried explaining to them that the information they wanted was in the 5774 folder. Just find it, and the messages and information inside that, and they’d be fine.

They went off. A young woman in a green 1950s era Chevy pickup truck picked me up and took me to the celebration. The grounds were rutted with mud, but it was like a huge carnival. After I was given some food, I discovered that I was entered in a competition there. Contestants were taken to a center stage. Questions were put up on a screen for them to answer. They were given ten questions. Whoever was most correct most often won.

I watched the other contestants as they were asked questions and failed and was immediately eager for my turn. I knew I was going to ace this thing because the questions were all from the 5774 folder. I knew it intimately.

My turn finally came. Well, in theory. An equipment malfunction put a halt to the proceedings. The dream ended with me in the green pickup, grinning, eager for my turn, certain that I was going to win.

Monday’s Theme Music

Another milestone reached, because it’s another ‘t’ day. Yes, it’s today, April 4, 2022, a Monday, a new start to a new week, if you’re one of those who think of Monday as the first day of the week. I do, at least for today.

It’s rainy and chilly outside. Poured hard earlier, drumming on the roof and the vents, transporting us to a rock concert drum solo. Nice being inside, safe and warm, listening to the rain. I wish everyone in the world had such simple luxury, shelter, and security.

The theoretical sunrise, theoretical because the clouds were saying, “Nope, not this morning, no sunshine for you, Ashland,” was at 6:49 this morning while sunset, if we see it, will be at 7:40 PM. It’s now 42 degrees F. We might see 50 today.

Today’s song comes out of reflections for the cat who passed away last month. I miss him and his energy still fills the house while his memory is sharp in our minds, but, you know, he was enduring heavy pain and discomfort by the end. You know how it is; you miss them but you’re happy they’re free of their disease’s chains. You promise to meet up again sometime, somewhere, and wonder, can that be true? Is that possible?

So, it’s mixed emotions with which his passing is viewed. Hearing that, the sleepy neurons were like, “What? Mixed Emotions. Rolling Stones. 1989. Here we go.” I answered, no, no, I wasn’t asking for that to be played.

Well, here we are. The neurons won.

The song has a nice guitar-driven throwback for the Stones. It could easily be from the late sixties or early seventies instead of the late eighties. They were, are, an enduring band.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, etc. We’ve made plans for our next booster this week. Take care of yourself. Now, the neurons are demanded they be paid in coffee for their work, so I’m a mission to the kitchen. Here’s the tune. Cheers

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