Now listening to : Booker T & The M.G'.s "Soul Men"
Especially recommended : Track 4, 'I Was Made To Love Her'
So it's evening, and the absolutely beautiful rainburst I hear through the open kitchen window perfectly matches the strawberries I smell. Thunder just clapped for me. It's spring, you know.
I've had good weather-luck all week -- acres of sunshine (my chest and arms are TAN, y'all!), chilly evenings with a pale moon and stars beyond the counting, the odd unanticipated rain . . . it's like Washington remembered to be that for which I came back. It gives me energy to be this happy with the way the wind is blowing; I can make plans now. For example? Greek plans. That is, plans to take Greek over the summer. On account of my punishment gluttony, I believe. But that is not all I spend my happy time on; oh no. I look up how people hit my blog (mostly? people googling for some japanese phrase that shows up in a comment on one of my entries, or for that chrono cross message about hp/mp being restored, but you're still hungry, which I find so amusing. Other than that, it's mostly people, again through google, who misspell words in the same way I do. Dude. GOOGLE OWNS EVERYTHING.), and I scan the internets for necklace porn, and "research" most excellent tv shows, and then I grade papers, because a happy grader is a (more so) helpful grader. And when you have regurgitated the question as your thesis statement for THE THIRTY-SEVENTH TIME, and I do not really have the heart to explain to you why this is both uninteresting to me and unhelpful to you, I do so anyway because the weather is fine and american consumer/viewer culture is there to get me through my rough spots.
This is magic, kids. Theurgy. Calling it down from metaphysics. Do not underestimate the importance of a good rainburst for affecting my mood. Or shopping and spectator sport to sustain it.
On the other hand, sometimes my mood is best served by instigation. See: the Great Mexifry Debate which follows.