My Brain is in Hibernation

Read this post only if you're uber-ultra-bored. Otherwise, skip on and find some more interesting previous posts, those written before my intellect had shut off completely for the summer.

You'd think that someone who has no commitments and lives in a sleepy little town such as Inuvik would be on top of her household chores, like laundry, for instance. But no.... I still have an embarrassing heap of grungy clothes piled in a corner in the floor of my closet. Add to that the pile that I had thrown in the washer. (Why bother to put clothes in and then NOT run the machine? Beats me....)

Small endeavors in which I take disproportionate (and irrational) pride:

• Moving past the afore-mentioned rut on page 231 of The Line of Beauty. I'm now in the page 255 rut. For someone who regularly devours books at one sitting, perhaps I should take this as a sign. To move onto another book, or to forge ahead? I just hate giving up on a book, and a Booker Prize winner no less. What is it about me that refuses to be captivated? What am I not getting? Why am I not moved? Why am I not tuning in to Hollinghurst's wavelength? Has my brain shut down; have I been in the sun too long and killed the cells required for higher thinking?

• OK, so the last one is not quite something to be proud of, but here's one: I dug out a brand-spanking new shirt that I purchased in Edmonton in March, and I cut the sleeves off of them. I'm wearing it now, and had briefly tied my hair up with one of the sleeves. The clothes in my dresser have been calling me in my sleep, and I seem to have been possessed by their spirits, enough to make me destroy perfectly good items and relish in the act. Yesterday, I opened a dresser drawer that had not been opened for months (I normally keep my rotation of five outfits in the closet, within easy reach). I pulled out a brand-new pair of khakis that I had no recollection of ever buying. Intrigued and more than a bit confused, I pulled the pants on, to find that they didn't fit. I guess I'll have to send it the way of those ski pants that reached up to my chest and the sweater that suffocated and strangled every muscle on the top half of my body. And yet, I still, quite obviously, continue to buy things without trying them on first. Moreover, I still keep them in my dresser rather than returning them to the store.

All right, what's to be proud of there? Blind faith.... It's priceless. And, I have a new hair band. (I have two!) If only I liked to put my hair up.... (I had told you to skip on, but you didn't listen, so it serves you right that you received absolutely no intellectual stimulation out of this.)