This weekend I must work, but work can be purifying--a crucible in which one burns sandalwood and fireplace crystals. Cases are like planetarium stars, so many constellations and facets and hidden galaxies. Sometimes, it's true, a dark nebula intervenes--but in general, one swims in stars.
I wanted to have my 11 year old niece down this weekend, but the need to help finalize a brief precluded that plan. Perhaps I'll instead accomplish worthwhile things. I am all in favor of worthwhile things being accomplished.
I scored a draw with the black pieces in a postal chess match against a fellow from Japan, which pleased me, because my initial games in the International Correspondence Chess Federation had not gone well, so that even a draw will suffice to snap a streak.
I love the sheer pointless dialogue in life--"is that 'no sugar added, non-fat', or just 'no sugar added'?"; or "let me calendar that"; or "roast beef, lettuce and cheese only, wheat, for here, combo'd, please". A rhythm of murmur.
I'm puzzled by rhythm. Beat on 1 and 3? On 2 and 4? on 2 and 7? All beyond me. I'm reduced to reading Jeeves books and pondering an upcoming post entitled "monica goodling". I've been following the chess candidates' tournament in Kalmykia, which will determine some of the contestants in the big matches to determine who gets to face the world champion. Crape myrtles are in bloom. My bicycle needs its tires inflated.
I promise myself this weekend will be a good weekend.