I sent an e-mail to my friend B the other day about how I’ve been having trouble focusing on things that require thought and effort. The fault lies with the internet and television, to be sure, but let’s not get into all that right now. The problem itself is that I can sit down and write jokey e-mails to friends, or post little things in my LiveJournal, but when it comes to the sort of substantive writing that requires critical thought, I’m woefully inadequate these days. As is my custom*, I’m going to make a list of things I’d write about had I the mental capacity:
1. I’m moving to a new apartment. It’s closer to downtown, it was built in the fifties, and it’s prettier, though more expensive, than my current place. There’s more light, too.
I’ve got this weird thing going on with my current apartment where work is a 20-minute drive away in one direction, and most of my friends are a 20-minute drive away in the other. This wouldn’t be too much of a problem (though I’d rather not have to drive AT ALL), except for the fact that the 20-minute drives home from my friends’ area of town occur late at night, which is not exactly a good time to be driving home. More weekends than not I spend at least one night sleeping on someone’s futon so I don’t have to drive all the way home.
This new place is ten minutes closer to my friends’ area of town. In one week I’d estimate that I drive to that area and to work an equal number of times, so I’m going to use the same amount of gas I do now on that front. The bonus is that my new apartment is in a highly walkable area (71 out of 100!), which means I’ll be able to walk or ride my bike to coffeehouses and restaurants and the pharmacy and so forth.
There is no 2. because I’m bored now.
*One of my favorite little oft-used phrases in The Floating Opera, about which Orville Prescott said this:
Nevertheless, “The Floating Opera” isn’t anywhere near funny enough to make up for its grievous faults. Most of this odd novel is dull. Most of its humor is labored and flat. Some of its heavy-handed attempts to shock seem cheap in a juvenile and nasty way rather than sophisticated or realistic, as they probably were intended.
So, uh, fuck that guy.