I have two welcome days off from work, starting right now. Then I have another day of work; then another pair. After that, I am back to my typical schedule of working 37.5 hours a week, sans brain. I try to make intellectual exercises for myself while I stock the socks, yet fail every time. I presume the reasons are similar to those which prevented me from getting anything done while I toured the Caribbean with my saxophone. The environment just wasn't right.

Sometimes I am amazed at how much my environment constrains me. Without proximal coffee and bed, I suffer. Reggae music in the backround? I suffer.

For a man who purports to be an immaterial substance, I have a striking inability to detach.