... a moment of stream-of-consciousness thinking
What a gloomy day, drizzle, rain, thick clouds, and it is less than 60 degrees. What is the symbol for degree(s)? Tomorrow is supposed to be a better day. Took a rather long nap and had a hard time waking up.
I have a list of several letters that I should write and I can't decide which one I should attempt. I'd like to try a card but after last night's effort which accomplished nothing, my mood says, "What for or for whom? My computer was slow in starting, and it printed that column of DOS/". I waited and turned the silly thing off. I started it up again. Is that good for the machine? It is now working nicely.
I must ask Jim for that starter recipe that he says his wife has. I'd like to try one of those cakes again or the bread that he says is "delicious".
Is this "third stream writing"? I guess I'll never be a writer. I spend an inordinate amount of time correcting my spelling, rereading and changing words, and who the heck in their right mind would find the above interesting? No action, no mystery, no jokes, no dirt. Am I learning anything? I am using the dictionary more, but I doubt that it is increasing my vocabulary. Perhaps I should take a course in writing. There are probably already thousands of people wishing for an answer to the question of how best to fill time and/or uncover a hidden talent that could be developed for their own enjoyment or miracle of miracles, something that others would find worthy of attention. Is it time passing on?
I can't recall how or why or when I started to write music. I seemed to be able to work my way through and, in some cases, quite successfully, whatever I happily attempted. Maybe I didn't ponder the question whether I could; I just did. Maybe there were many things I wasn't able to do but I didn't take note of such endeavors. Oh, well, so be it. Methinks I will print my meandering thoughts.