Mind Games
Thursday, 20 October 2005 11:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
daThis morning, I put on my sweater and reached back to pull my ponytail up... but it's been an entire year since I had long hair.
When I woke up, I was having a dream that it was Friday, and I had planned out how I would get things done at work so I'd be in good shape for next Monday. It was a bit of a pain because I really wanted another day to test some things before trusting they'd work on the weekend.
A bit of that feeling stuck with me through breakfast, planning for the weekend tomorrow. A curious feeling, holding "It's Thursday" and "It's Friday" together in my mind at the same time.
Right now I've got-- well, a feeling like I cheated time today, and pulled the day out of nothing, like my ponytail.
My bike ride to work was wonderful. Just as I was crossing the bridge through the park, I saw a flock of six ducks come in for a landing, in a perfect V, into the lake. I agree with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
melted_snowball that ducks are remarkably funny looking, but this was exactly their moment- wings as ailerons, webbed feet as waterskis, chubby bodies floating like corks.
I was thinking about reality and knowledge; nothing I'm willing to share here yet, but when I got to work, it all fell out into a-- poem, which I put onto my work computer. Reading it again, it looks like a pastiche of Walt Whitman, but maybe that's why I like Whitman so much.
When I woke up, I was having a dream that it was Friday, and I had planned out how I would get things done at work so I'd be in good shape for next Monday. It was a bit of a pain because I really wanted another day to test some things before trusting they'd work on the weekend.
A bit of that feeling stuck with me through breakfast, planning for the weekend tomorrow. A curious feeling, holding "It's Thursday" and "It's Friday" together in my mind at the same time.
Right now I've got-- well, a feeling like I cheated time today, and pulled the day out of nothing, like my ponytail.
My bike ride to work was wonderful. Just as I was crossing the bridge through the park, I saw a flock of six ducks come in for a landing, in a perfect V, into the lake. I agree with
melted_snowball that ducks are remarkably funny looking, but this was exactly their moment- wings as ailerons, webbed feet as waterskis, chubby bodies floating like corks.I was thinking about reality and knowledge; nothing I'm willing to share here yet, but when I got to work, it all fell out into a-- poem, which I put onto my work computer. Reading it again, it looks like a pastiche of Walt Whitman, but maybe that's why I like Whitman so much.
