Reflections on a spring day

Strange tidings come upon me in the dead of night. It was a peculiar day today. It did not start off very different from the rest of them. My tendencies are rigid - rock solid - despite my every desire to strike at their foundation, they do not seem to wilt. They have been immobile for ten years.

I took a nice walk around the block. I switch my habitation weekly, and this week I'm on my tropical getaway by the shore. There's something about the verdant foliage, the way the spring light diffracts and reflects off sea, grass and blooming tree that makes everything appear so vibrant. And as I was walking, a thought struck me: How had all of this happened? A few months ago I had been working diligently, and reluctantly, on a local political campaign that shall go unnamed. I have never come closer to quitting a job than I had in that first week, but when I looked out at branches stripped of their leaves and the grey drizzle of winter sky, I made myself a promise. I told myself I would suffer it, because then I could enjoy the spring shift with satisfaction at the triumph over my grueling endeavor. Now here we are, the shift has come and gone, the trees and flowers are in efflorescence, and I could not for the life of me figure out how it had happened. When had flowers begun to bloom? When had branches grown green? Spring had snuck up on me and passed me by. I did not get a chance to enjoy it.

Now why is this? How could this have happened? I was so looking forward to it after all. I suspect I grew slack and content, and even more than that, I spent a good chunk of that time indulging in a disreputable pastime, availing myself of the services of a particular class of woman. I've just emerged from a bender of sorts, you see, and it is with great savagery that I have come to repress the impulse of appetite. I've lost more than just money to the fixations of the moment. Certain things have slid past me, and I have allowed them to do so.

I didn't have much time to reflect on that, because I got a call from a company that specializes in retail stocking. Flexible hours, low pay, the burden of travel cast upon myself. I listened politely and answered her questions. She liked me a lot; they often do. I think tomorrow I will refuse her. I'm still smarting over my latest dismissal: a two to three month gig turned into a four day venture at a local apartment complex. My morale had already collapsed by the halfway point, but still - this is a matter of principle. It was supposed to have made up for my sordid expenditures. To think now it will cover less than half the cost. And to think I continued to indulge even after being removed. Why, isn't that commitment?

I played Fortnite with an old college friend tonight. I was expecting the worst, but I came out pleasantly surprised. A decade ago I was a big fan of gaming, but that passion has waned with the years. I still do not yet know whether it was I who left the hobby or if it was the hobby that left me. I imagine it is a bit of both, with the jury out on who bears primary responsibility. When I was in college, I was often compelled by the pressures of the moment to join in on the battle royale craze, and I did not come out of it with a favorable impression. It's no surprise, of course, that an industry beset by generational and technological shifts would move quickly to meet the demands of the moment. But it was much like a blind prospect that happened to find luck - and strike gold. Fortnite rose in an environment dominated by the MOBA and the MOBA was an inevitable consequence of innovations in the business model of gaming firms - tried, tested and incubated in the innocuous realm of hats and skins. The industry has followed the rest into the knowledge economy. We are only interested in services now. Orgy porgy.

But I digress. I had fun with my friend. More fun that I had any real right to expect. I suppose this might become a regular thing. Too often I find myself dreading things I later come to enjoy. It is the classic problem of experience. More and more, I have come to believe that experience is the final frontier that needs to be cracked, those of my own and others alike, past, present and future. In them contains all questions left worth asking.

But what a vague and nebulous thing for me to say. After all, what are experiences? What experiences could I possibly mean? And what problems could possibly arise from them? I suppose those are questions for another day. A day in which I feel more like systematizing than aphorizing. I promised myself I wouldn't fall into old traps and here I am prepared once again to try my hand at taking the plunge. Maybe we should return to the question of service. I was once, after all, a worker in that vein.

Even that, dear reader, might be too much. For now I am content to consider the moment and the day that has preceded it. Reality did not quite live up to the banal expectations I had set for it. I am not sure if that is a good thing. It should be. But I don't feel much better. Maybe a slight uplifting sensation. All the same, I am determined to restore de rerum natura. Change rather takes the form of a bump in the road than a fork in it. Perhaps I should invest in a concrete mixer.