Free to Be You and Me

Went to see Alan Alda last night with Overmatter, then for cheap eats at Pho Pasteur which is now Le's but which I, horrifyingly and for many years, called Pol Pot.

Yipes.

Anyhoo, I mostly thought nasty thoughts at poor Alan, chief among them being "Oh, so some of your intestines went bad in Chile. Poor f#$%ing rich celebrity baby." Also there was much discussion as to the meaning of life and I've got to tell you, I'd heard it all before. All of this "so many people just let life pass them by," and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

I have the opposite problem. I spend too much time thinking about the point of it all. I am really good at appreciating things, like when I sat with my father on the front lawn of the McPolack homestead a few weekends ago, just after a midge hatching. The air was thick with dragonflies and we sat with our hands propped up behind us behind us experiencing it. I felt a dragonfly take a mosquito -- swish! -- from right next to my ear. I could feel its wings fluttering.

That's the good side of all my thinking. The bad side is that, well, goddamn, I have the worst time making decisions and I worry and fret almost all the time about everything. To the point where I'm wasting my life worrying about whether I'm wasting my life. I told Overmatter last night that I needed a vacation from thinking about the meaning of life and trying really hard to be better and more independent and more self-sufficient and kinder to my fellow man, and less of anything bad.

I want to go somewhere where I don't have to do any of that shit, just for a little while.