Thursday’s Theme Music
Today is Thursday, February 17, 2022. A few sketchy cloud islands keep the sky from achieving a perfect blue. A robust sun brought the light and heat at 7:05 AM. Temperatures have climbed quickly. It’s 46 F now and we expect a high of 61 F before the Earth’s spin steals the sun from our sector at 5:46 PM.
I’m feeling a little off today. Not sick or anything. Just behind on my routines. Explanation:
I have a young ginger cat. We’ll call him Trouble, which is not his real name, but I want to protect his privacy. After going out at two AM and coming back in at two twenty (it was a cold night, about 29 F), At 5:42 AM, Trouble woke me again with his song of his need to leave again, to be wild and free, outside. I let him out and used the bathroom. While in there, the sick cat asked for food. “Okay, I’ll feed you, baby,” I said. I had a can open for him, got him the food, and settled back into bed.
Or tried. Tucker, the house’s Prime Floof, had taken over my spot and was purring like a revving motocycle. I tried shifting him, but cats can multiply their body weight by over one thousand percent at will, and I couldn’t budge him. I had to reconfigure myself and my space.
That was when Trouble came knocking to come back in.
I let Trouble in. He proceeded to tell off sick cat. I provided sick cat with another helping of food. 6:15. Back to bed. A few minutes later, sick cat began beating his water bowl and complaining. I got up to address his issue. Water bowl was empty. But I’d just filled it last night —
“Yeah, whatever,” reality said, “it’s empty now.” I refilled the water bowl. Went back to bed.
Trouble arrived. Could I please let him out, OMG, it’s so important that I let him out now.
AAARGH.
I let Trouble out and lectured him about what he was doing to me. Returned to bed. Drifted to sleep reflecting on remembered dreams.
Guess who came knocking to come back in?
It was now eight. I’m usually up by now but I felt exhausted. I began exercising, which will usually stir up enough blood movement to reach the point that I can get to the kitchen, make coffee, and resuscitate my heart. “More sleep,” my body whispered with seductive tones. “You got it,” my brain replied, because he’s such a pushover.
Back to bed I went and did not get up until ten AM.
When I saw the time, my brain shrieked, “Ten AM! OMG. I’m in bed so late.” My body replied. “So? You don’t work. You have no employment. What difference does it make?”
“I still have things to do,” I reply with royal indignation, “like drink coffee, for example.”
“And feed cats,” sick cat said.
I have a song, “Uprising” by Muse in the morning mental music stream. I did it as a theme song not long ago and don’t want to repeat it today. That forced me to find another song. Nothing was coming to mind. The neurons finally started circulating “Cradle Of Love” by Billy Idol (1990). “Why?” I asked the neurons. “Because we like it,” they said, then went on with petulance, “Why not?”
Right. Why not.
Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax and boosters when you’re able. Here’s the music. I’m crawling into the kitchen for some coffee. Cheers
Two Unheard Questions Dream
We were located in an old service station garage. Tall glass garage doors along either side. It’s raining on one side. Just splatter against the window. Through it, I can see another building. I know it’s a coffee house. I can see one person in there, a tall, slender, white, blonde woman with short, curly hair. I want to go over and have coffee. I will when I’m done, I keep telling myself.
I’m conducting two activities in parallel. In one, I’m in charge of a class where people are learning to play music to calm and relax people. Mixed in with the people learning that are people there for advice on retired life. Both are packed classes. One group is filling out paperwork and asking me questions; the other group is selecting music, playing it on radios, and asking me questions. I walk among them, helping, talking, instructing. We’re all tired. We’ve been up a long time. I’d been up over twenty-four hours. I want to go get coffee. Then go to sleep.
We’re done. Classes are finished. The class members all lie down on the floor to rest just for a few minutes. Two ask me questions, one from each class. Settling on the floor with them, I answer, “I didn’t hear your questions. Were they about music or retiring?”
Tuesday’s Theme Music
We call this stormy Tuesday but Monday’s just as bad. We also call it September 28, 2021. With dark, dramatic lighting, we call it, “The Final Tuesday”. It’s here for you, and it’s not about basketball.
Rained part of the night. Trailed off into a lazy gray sunrise at 7:04 AM. Sunset is due at 6:58 PM. Chilly. Had the heat come on this morning. Low was 42 F. Expect a high of 66 F. It is fall. Time for fall treats. Pumpkin pie.
A skunk fight interrupted our deep sleep. When I say a fight, t’weren’t any sounds associated with it. Just an intense smell. Like a dirty dozen pack of skunks entered the house and let loose on us. The air purifier was pressed into service. Fiful sleep returned after an hour plus, unusual for me, known as he-who-falls-asleep. An early telephone call interrupted it. I rolled out and into a lumbering run, wondering, “Who is it, what is it,” etc. Turned out to be the solar system installer. New inverter has arrived. Can he send his team over with it this afternoon?
I returned to bed to suck up more zzzs. But my thinking had conjured a Macklemore & Ryan song into my head. “Can’t Hold Us”. 2011. Spun up from these second-stanza lyrics:
Return of the Mack, get up!
What it is, what it does, what it is, what it isn’t.
Looking for a better way to get up out of bed
Instead of getting on the Internet and checking a new hit me.
Admittedly, I know these lyrics mostly because I’ve looked them up after querying myself, “What are they saying?” Macklemore and Lewis rap so fast. Common among rappers, though. It’s all about quick speech. Quick minds. I’m just too slow. Ray Dalton’s singing is a welcome break on the song for me.
It’s fascinating how you become adjusted to circumstances like smells. I’d been up for a few hours. Thought, oh, good, the skunk odor has dissipated. Then I went outside to experience the world. When I returned inside, the skunk’s smell lanced through me, fresh and sharp. Windows were opened. Furnace turned off. Purifier turned on.
Stay positive. Test negative. Wear a mask as needed. Get the vax. Enjoy the music. Have more coffee. You know I am. Here’s the tune. Cheers
Monday’s Theme Music
Greetings from Mars. Ha, just kidding. Still on Earth, so far as I know. This might be a Matrix situation though. Or I could be part of a Sims existence. I will always think I know, even if I don’t.
Today is Monday, September 27, 2021. It lightly rained this morning. Made for a glorious burst of dawn apricots and gold between clouds at 7:03 AM. Sunset is less than twelve hours away: 1901. We’ve passed the tipping point. The night will gain time over the daylight until we reach that next stage, the longest night, in December.
Till then, party! Well, no. Just live. If that includes party, well, that’s often good. Today’s temperatures will flutter from their current level, about 60 F, to about 68, maybe 69. Maybe 70. Brooding clouds are suggesting, “Ain’t gonna happen.” And the sun is saying, “Fuck it, I’m chillin’ today.”
Cat moment inspired today’s music. (Why, that’s never happened before, hasit?) In bed this AM. Had just returned from feeding several beasties. Wasn’t ready to rise and shine. Wasn’t even ready to just rise. As I was sinking back into slumberland, Tucker wandered up with a purr offer. He then tucked his paw under my nose, brought his nose up close, and stared at me in the face. “Hello,” I said. His purr went hyper. From that, “Hello, I Love You” by the Doors (1968) crashed into the Monday morning mental music stream.
Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, get the vax and boosters as needed, and live a good life. Here’s the music. Ima getting coffee. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 