Monday, May 2, 2016.
The Gloom Continues. Too Much (Too Many?) Red Beans. Dream.
This report is about the day between two nights' sleep, and how widely different they were. I wish there were a way to review sleep. But few stories are more boring than someone else's dreams, even when they're as fascinating as I find my own nights of slumbering theater.
Sunday night into Monday, my computer problem continues to dig deep under my skin. I must resort to strategies I used in other crises. I don't sleep well, so I make a list of everything I need to accomplish in the coming day. It runs to ten items, including among them several jobs I'm not sure I can resolve.
But my rational mind tells me that this list is really all I need do in the coming day, thereby changing my workload from infinite to possible. I am soon asleep.
As the day wears on, I do indeed get everything done on my list. Which is a lot better than taking a medication my doctor subscribed a year ago, but which I took only once to see what it did to me. Actually, it was calming. But I don't like the idea of it. Just having it available eases my jitters, without my having to take it. My doctor told that was exactly what he hoped would happen.
Mary Ann and I have lunch at New Orleans Food and Spirits, which serves very good red beans and rice. But they serve it in truly ridiculous portions. Enough for three people. It comes with an indivisible salad, and two grilled pork chops for a total of ten bucks. Too much food!
[caption id="attachment_43285" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Red beans and rice, just the way I like them at New Orleans Food and Spirits. Get them with blackened catfish.[/caption]
A man calls during the radio show with a complaint about my thoughts on overabundance. He takes me to task for not understanding that some people don't have the budget to get both an appetizer and an entree, and who look for restaurants that serve a lot of food in one course, so they don't have to run up the check with soups, salads, appetizers, and desserts. Or, God help us, a la carte side dishes.
I stand by my guns. (I am not a member of the NRA, however.) I think most restaurants serve far too much food. And the ones that serve artful little plates for top-end prices trigger one's value gland into secreting an alert probably serve the exact right amount of food to keep one nourished. Of this I am certain: if the main direction of a search for a good restaurant meal is the low price-mammoth portion criterion, the enjoyability of the meal declines.
At least to my tastes.
Both of the conductors of the NPAS chorus are busy this week with other musical associations and concerts, so we have the day off from rehearsing our Americana show. That gives me the time to knock off the last couple of items on my work list. When I go to bed Monday night, I fall right asleep.
Sort of.
I am especially entertained by the dreams triggered by old radio dramas. I know of several online channels that play those works all the time. I turn the station on at a low volume, and fall asleep almost immediately. A few hours later, I am having a fascinating dream that emerges from the dialogue of the radio drama currently running. Tonight's is a tale told by The Whistler--a great CBS Radio mystery-suspense program of the late 1940s. Something about a guy who has a body in the trunk of his car. When his wife opens the trunk and screams, I wake up, then run a check to make sure that I am not driving a car with a corpse in the trunk. No. . . I'm safely in my bed.
Its duty done, I change the radio station to a very low classical feed, which serenades me through the night.
But what could possibly interest anyone else in all all of this?
Red beans and rice, just the way I like them at New Orleans Food and Spirits. Get them with blackened catfish.[/caption]
A man calls during the radio show with a complaint about my thoughts on overabundance. He takes me to task for not understanding that some people don't have the budget to get both an appetizer and an entree, and who look for restaurants that serve a lot of food in one course, so they don't have to run up the check with soups, salads, appetizers, and desserts. Or, God help us, a la carte side dishes.
I stand by my guns. (I am not a member of the NRA, however.) I think most restaurants serve far too much food. And the ones that serve artful little plates for top-end prices trigger one's value gland into secreting an alert probably serve the exact right amount of food to keep one nourished. Of this I am certain: if the main direction of a search for a good restaurant meal is the low price-mammoth portion criterion, the enjoyability of the meal declines.
At least to my tastes.
Both of the conductors of the NPAS chorus are busy this week with other musical associations and concerts, so we have the day off from rehearsing our Americana show. That gives me the time to knock off the last couple of items on my work list. When I go to bed Monday night, I fall right asleep.
Sort of.
I am especially entertained by the dreams triggered by old radio dramas. I know of several online channels that play those works all the time. I turn the station on at a low volume, and fall asleep almost immediately. A few hours later, I am having a fascinating dream that emerges from the dialogue of the radio drama currently running. Tonight's is a tale told by The Whistler--a great CBS Radio mystery-suspense program of the late 1940s. Something about a guy who has a body in the trunk of his car. When his wife opens the trunk and screams, I wake up, then run a check to make sure that I am not driving a car with a corpse in the trunk. No. . . I'm safely in my bed.
Its duty done, I change the radio station to a very low classical feed, which serenades me through the night.
But what could possibly interest anyone else in all all of this?
