Wednesday, June 17, 2009

How Not To Meditate

"I have this fantasy," I say to pit crew, "of sitting down like in a coffee shop—"

"A coffee shop or a cafe?

"What do you think is which?

"Like Alexi's is a coffee shop."

"I meant like Mercury Cafe."

"Mercury is a coffee house."

"Who says this?"

"Me. You have this fantasy."

"Of sitting down and writing in my notebook. Which I think I'm working toward. I'm getting stuff done that has to get done. I ordered my bearing shields, and my books. Last night I had a stack of bills to pay, and I paid them; that had to be done. I had to have my eye appointment tonight. Though that didn't really cut into my writing time, it's only seven-thirty. I could start writing now."

"Can you cover me with a blanket?

"Yes." I cover him with a blanket. "Do you want me to make room for you on the chaise?"

"I'm comfortable down here."

"I might get up and start writing, though."

Which I do. I mean, I get up. I enter some more bills, for tonight's dinner at Taco & Burrito Express and for the eye appointment. I write a $4 check to the dentist. I endorse the reimbursement check that Blue Cross has finally sent me, damn their eyes. I write a quarter-page in my notebook. I look at Facebook. I want to put up a link to my blog on my profile, and doesn't fit in the little space. I mess around with pointing, which I've actually owned all this time, to my blogspot. Somebody who knows as little as I do just shouldn't mess around with pointy thingys. I was perfectly happy with Oh right, it didn't fit in the little space. This cartoon would be funnier if you could see the title and the picture in one eyeful. I should make the picture smaller, and take the caption off the herding cats cartoon. And change the title.

"My effort to sit down and write is being severely hampered by the fact that I have..." Flickr is taking a long time to load.


"What? Oh. Goldfish brain."

I'm supposed to be writing about meditating, the art of doing one thing at a time—