Something happened today. Of course, something happens every day, but something happened today.
A Full English Breakfast is only ever "full" if served with Black Pudding. And I woke to the smell of this treat being cooked. That smell alone adjusted the various chemicals in my brain to "normal" levels, making me feel balanced for the first time in months. But that's not what happened.
Making my way into the kitchen my eyes hurt from the sunlight which poured in, bouncing off of every reflective surface, washing away every bit of dark and gloom, bringing warmth and that special feeling we all get from time to time.
Today was the day when I could do anything. Well, not anything. Obviously I couldn't fly to the moon or bring about world peace by the mere act of releasing a pop record featuring best selling artists, but I could do anything within my means.
It was the first clear blue sky I had seen months. After yesterday's rain it seemed like Sunday might be another washout. But it wasn't.
After eating breakfast I washed my host's pots, as a way of thanks, and headed out. This was great. No signs of anything bipolar. No manic feelings, nothing depressive, no lithium washout. Today I was going to do something different.
I had no particular direction to head in, not even home. And besides, that isn't really my home, just somewhere to rest my head and store my things. So, I just went wherever my legs would take me.
Before I knew it I had passed through woods, walked through open fields, almost got trampled on by a cow (not the first time this has happened - cows seem to be getting aggressive these days), and I was by the canal.
There were many fishing the waters and as I passed each fisherman (there were no women fishing) I wondered how many times that day they would be asked if they'd caught something, and how they might react each time to that question, whether they would find it frustrating, or whether they'd indulge themselves by pulling the keep net from the water and showing off the products of their day's "labour."
Soon I was back on the road and passed by a park where there was a Sunday league football match. Most of the players looked hungover and some of them looked too old and fat to be running around for 90 minutes. I thought about how many times I'd read about people having massive heart attacks while playing Sunday league football. Still, if you die doing what you enjoy...
Looking at my watch and noting how long I'd been travelling away from where I ought to be ending up I decided to head back. But then changed my mind.
I wasn't too far from an important piece of engineering history. Engineering has a lot to answer for; some of it good, some of it bad. But for the most part, good. Humans were designed to be engineers, it's just that we got some of it wrong. It's not too late to put things right.
A Full English Breakfast is only ever "full" if served with Black Pudding. And I woke to the smell of this treat being cooked. That smell alone adjusted the various chemicals in my brain to "normal" levels, making me feel balanced for the first time in months. But that's not what happened.
Making my way into the kitchen my eyes hurt from the sunlight which poured in, bouncing off of every reflective surface, washing away every bit of dark and gloom, bringing warmth and that special feeling we all get from time to time.
Today was the day when I could do anything. Well, not anything. Obviously I couldn't fly to the moon or bring about world peace by the mere act of releasing a pop record featuring best selling artists, but I could do anything within my means.
It was the first clear blue sky I had seen months. After yesterday's rain it seemed like Sunday might be another washout. But it wasn't.
After eating breakfast I washed my host's pots, as a way of thanks, and headed out. This was great. No signs of anything bipolar. No manic feelings, nothing depressive, no lithium washout. Today I was going to do something different.
I had no particular direction to head in, not even home. And besides, that isn't really my home, just somewhere to rest my head and store my things. So, I just went wherever my legs would take me.
Before I knew it I had passed through woods, walked through open fields, almost got trampled on by a cow (not the first time this has happened - cows seem to be getting aggressive these days), and I was by the canal.
There were many fishing the waters and as I passed each fisherman (there were no women fishing) I wondered how many times that day they would be asked if they'd caught something, and how they might react each time to that question, whether they would find it frustrating, or whether they'd indulge themselves by pulling the keep net from the water and showing off the products of their day's "labour."
Soon I was back on the road and passed by a park where there was a Sunday league football match. Most of the players looked hungover and some of them looked too old and fat to be running around for 90 minutes. I thought about how many times I'd read about people having massive heart attacks while playing Sunday league football. Still, if you die doing what you enjoy...
Looking at my watch and noting how long I'd been travelling away from where I ought to be ending up I decided to head back. But then changed my mind.
I wasn't too far from an important piece of engineering history. Engineering has a lot to answer for; some of it good, some of it bad. But for the most part, good. Humans were designed to be engineers, it's just that we got some of it wrong. It's not too late to put things right.
Something happened today. But I can't remember what it was. Something to do with the clocks?
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