I have a long standing tradition of going through phases. I had a five year period where I could not stop drawing architectural (can I use that word if I don't have the degree?) floor plans and house designs. I was possessed. I read about all the mid century masters and visited some Wright buildings. I studied terms and memorized house names in the off chance I ever ran into anyone that was able to talk about such things.
I had a two year period of obsessive vintage snare drum restoration. EBay actually sent me an email saying I may have what they called a "problem". It reminded me of some bar tenders I knew in the eighties.
Until recently I have been a very focused cyclist (which is what I am, not a biker, which applies to Harley owners). I also surf when it's convenient and conditions are good. Once in a while I skateboard. These are all things I have done my whole life and every ten years or so I add another thing to the list.
Lately though all the things I used to day dream about at work have lost air. It could be the recent modifications to our trail system (Thanks Fay!) or it could be I am shedding my skin once again, in any case it's damned unnerving. I am never happier than in the throws of some senseless obsession. This blog has been a particularly good one. It allows me to be creative and say things that I don't normally get to say (without being interrupted or ignored all together).
Now I am no better than a plastic bag, in The Great Pacific Garbage Patch. I am stuck in a floating pattern that seems to have no beginning and no end. I hate all the food I used to like. I could really care less weather I ride or not, and on the off chance Juancho gets faster than me (in between stopping for food, and the random need to sit on the ground) I will be okay with it. Why? Because I have lost my ability to give a shit.
So until further notice, I will be sitting here waiting for rescue. The professor can get his own coconuts, I am on break.