Tonight, though, it's not that I don't want to write, actually. I do want to write. I just don't want to write about anything in particular.
I'm listening to Sabaton's "Art of War". It has short spoken-word interludes between most of the songs. Lut dislikes the way the spoken word pieces interrupt the flow of the album: these are high-energy songs with driving beats, full of power. I rather like the spoken word interludes because they interrupt the flow. In many of the albums I love, after a while the songs all blur together and I barely register them. I'll put on an album for one particular song, and when it finishes I won't be able to remember hearing it. But I think the pauses help with that, in this album. My brain registers the change of pace, of energy, and that reminds me to listen. Be here now.
About every three weeks, I have the option of working 9-hour days Monday through Thursday, and leaving four hours early on Friday. Today was one of those Fridays. Usually I rent a car on these weekends, so I can run errands, get groceries, and visit local friends. I didn't feel like doing any of that this weekend, and used the excuse that it's supposed to snow to pass on the rental.
The weather has been unseasonably nice for most of the last two weeks: pleasant enough that I've been biking after work each day. It still gets dark far too early, so this is not a great idea even with the good weather. I only go for short rides, 5-6 miles instead of the 10-12 I'll do after work in the summer.
But I love biking outside so much more than using the exercise bike. Even when it's 45 degrees out and overcast, it is still an ineffably superior experience. There's this moment, as I ride out of the bank parking lot in the dying light of day, when I feel the wind against my face and all the stress of the day drops away. Boredom and deadlines and worries all melt under that endless Midwestern sky. It's the best part of the day. Even better than getting home. I love my home, but I have expectations there, about the things I should and will do, and even when I fritter away my evening in frivolity, I am keenly aware of the passing minutes. But in that moment when I'm leaving work, I feel free of everything. The night ahead is full of possibilities, as if there will be time enough for everything.
The good weather has not yet deserted us entirely. It was fortyish when I left work at noon. That's colder than I like to ride in, but doable, so I took a longer ride and ran some of the errands I wasn't renting a car to do. I went to the library to return a couple of books, then took the long way to Walmart to pick up a few groceries. I've spent most of the evening since thinking "why am I so tired?" and then following that thought with "perhaps because I spent 90 minutes biking." It doesn't seem like much, but it's more exercise than I've been getting lately.
Lately I've been writing more random blog posts like this and then not actually posting them. I'm not sure why. Like I never posted the end of my December trip, even though I wrote it all down 6+ weeks ago. It's a little annoying, because I like having so much of what I write stored on LJ. I was talking to Lut last night about "Game of October", and he said "Why wasn't Terry in that?" "Because I hadn't met him yet. I met him in 2007, in the +tb+ game. We finished Game of October in October 2007, but it'd started like three years earlier." Why do I remember this? Because I wrote it all down, and every now and then I go back to look at bits of it. It's nice to have a record.
Anyway, this may be a rather dull entry, but I'll post it just the same.