1. I dropped off the Jetta tonight for its 10,000 mile service. *sniff* How quickly they grow up! The guy who sold it to me asked how I like it, and I made the mistake of saying that well, it's okay, but I miss the hell out of my Beetle and I especially miss having a diesel. And now I'm quite sure that I'll be getting some phone calls and emails asking if I'm interested in trading up. Trading in a six month old car? I don't think so.
2. I still have that same stupid headache from earlier this week. Either that or my neck got run over and there are invisible knives stabbing my eyes. I think a massage would really help, but I don't think I'm healed enough from surgery to lie face-down on a massage table for an hour. Maybe in another week or so. Also, I have my yoga class tomorrow, and I'm hoping that will help.
3. I've been thinking a lot about Schroedinger's Cat. That's the kind of nerdy thing I like to do when I'm trying to make sense out of things. So the cat is in a box. And the cat is either dead or it's alive, but it can't be both at the same time. The only way to find out which is to open the box. Sometimes, though, you open the box and find that the cat is indeed alive but feels it is unable to be your cat because the cat has a kitten to raise. Disappointing, yes, but you had to know what's in the box. (NB: that phrase is best said in the manner of Brad Pitt at the end of "Se7en.")
That's enough cryptic for one night. Much love to you, and you know who you are.
Wednesday, February 27, 2013