It is Sunday.

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And a beautiful day it is. Well, I if I had any sense of beauty in any case. Being the slug that I am I just don't see it. The sun is shining, everything looks green, it is cool, there are trees and mountains in view. That will have to do and so it has been labeled by my philistine eyes as "beautiful". And it definitely is Sunday where I live. Oh, you say? It's not Sunday in other places? No, actually, it isn't Sunday everywhere. It depends on the longitude in which you live. In Adelaide, Australia and Vladivostok, Russia, it is Monday, for examples. I only explain in case you drank too deeply from the counter-Doom cup and forgot reality for a moment. You are welcome.

My bike is in! *dead Snoopy dance!* I will be into town to pick it up shortly. Is putting a bicycle together, or riding it, considered work? I mean, technically, without any doubt, in a physics manner (since items are definitely moved from one position to another), it has to be work. But it is not gainful employ, no money is exchanged, go goods or services are traded, the work is not completed in accordance with a legally binding agreement. Well, the bike is already paid. It merely is to be picked up. I am just considering the Sabbath, and to keep it holy. Just thinking. A bit more reading on that, but I think I am good? In reading about sins, that one is a serious one. I think it is fine though. Just thinking technical, raising questions, waking up, all combined into... well... this paragraph.

It being Sunday, as I wake and wonder, play and fiddle with notions and small things, I am going to have to bring my feet back down to earth. While I don't consider that last post yesterday truly silly, it is an artistic rendition of how I sort of see things. I say "artistic" as I won't call artistry what I often really think of most of it today, it being a Sunday and all. I know... how can you accuse yourself of using artistry AND have such a low opinion of the 'talent'? Ah, but how can you choose to be a Christian AND choose to sin? Oh? Really? Are you saying you don't sin or that you don't choose to sin? Careful here! Now, my friend, you know. Anyway. Planting my feet on the ground.

I think what I meant in that post was that I have ugly, powerful, surging, single-minded, impulses in me. Drives, if you will. I don't know, for certain, how different I am from others, in truth. Perhaps I was merely raised... much differently. Perhaps size and slightly elevated intelligence puts me in a different bracket, neither quite fitting in with the meek nerds nor the jocks. Moving may be the thing. Or perhaps there is an unusual 7th degree element. But I am different.

I have been disabled, so able to look at something I sensed as a child, with great care. I have had moments were I so wanted to just be normal. Some of my escapism may have been in an attempt to find normalcy, or even create it, an attempt to reject the label "different". I wanted to just be Joe six-pack. But I am not. As I have said before, this doesn't make me (necessarily, or more, fundamentally) better or worse, as a being, a man. Men shouldn't be able to drink a case of beer, a fifth of vodka, and a fifth of Yukon Jack, in eight hours, a few times a week for a year or more, not be an alcoholic, and not kill themselves or others. I didn't even bother to pass out. I would usually just go to bed and... wake feeling pretty good, usually. (No, long past. I was down to a few beers every other weeks tops until edema hit, haven't touched the stuff since. I think I wrote that recently, but thought it good to repeat.) I also shouldn't have been able to having my finger in the cooking oil, while frying a second batch of chicken, for 3 to 5 seconds, and not even had the skin turn red. Different indeed. I do bleed, I do die, but... Here I am. Less artistic, more... empirical?

Today is a day for God. To contemplate His wonders. To rest. For family. For friends. I just thought to take a moment to clarify any notions that I might be well and truly insane. I am. As is any man who has thought about everything and all then tried to make sense of it. Which, I am thinking, is exactly what God wanted. The only way to know sanity is to see the option, same with joy, pleasure, happiness, or the other good things left to us to discover. Without their counterparts we will surely never understand the good bits. Why, what would man be... without woe man? Women make the world happy there are men. And I suspect just the opposite as well, sometimes, but that's not my story to attempt to give veracity. *grins* Oh, fine, I sort of like em' too.

I never did get my friend to answer his phone. I went by his house but his bike was gone. Too bad, I had enough food for two with me. Which is fine, I was hungry. I probably ate a bit much yesterday. It... happens. I did a bit of laundry and some dishes yesterday. Then I stayed up way late! I was up until... midnight! And I slept in way late! Waking at about 8:15! But it seems to work out well. I got the right amount of sleep, and it was a Saturday after all. So long as I readjust back to, say, 22:00 as a bedtime tonight or tomorrow. I just wanted to 'walk the dog' a bit.

Have a great Sunday. Remember God. He does remember you, down to the number of hairs on your head. The rest of us, love you or not, some days, are doing good to remember your face and bad habits. Just... sayin'.