11pm: Dogs done with last walk of the day, windows open, light breeze, phone charging, fresh nightstand seltzer for evening pills, emotional resilience is a trait you can develop, ready to adapt to even difficult circumstances, clean legs, sheets crisp, action-oriented, internal locus of control
2pm: Weather app open, windows closed, blinds drawn, ten-day forecast, May didn’t used to be like this but now May is always like this, so which is it, didn’t or always? It didn’t used to but now it’s always for the first time, three-day forecast, what time is sunset, hourly forecast, what the FUCK was that? is there a bug in the room? I swear to fucking GOD I just felt a bug touch me, no one ever does any goddamn chores in this house
11pm: Looks like tomorrow will be hot again, but then from Wednesday out it seems closer to normal, which gives me plenty of time to get everything done, humanity will continue to adapt, who knows what’s in store but we’ll meet each challenge as it comes,
2pm: this is it, man, this is fucking it, last summer was the last catastrophe, this is it, baby, this is when we start remembering catastrophes with fondness
11pm: Calmly thumbing through Philippe Ariès Western Attitudes Toward Death from the Middle Ages to the Present. One needn’t be in a rush to die in order to accept it as a part of everything. Even fear comes to an end in the strange two-handed gift of death.
2pm: everyone who has ever lived has died and then they had to be dead forever because no one has ever gotten sufficiently worried about dying but I’m going to change all that
11pm: Calmly thumbing through Jessica Mitford’s The American Way of Death
2pm: If May is already like last August then that means this August is going to be the only chance we get to assess the state of things before fleeing – but we’re not survivalists, fleeing only works if society flees en masse, my God, we’ve got to do this all together, we’ve just got to, and how far north can we go, if even the ice caps are going? and winter will become a fumbling, furtive, sweaty obscenity — God god, who thought we would come to miss winter —
11pm: Calmly thumbing through Johannes von Tepl’s Der Ackermann und der Tod, nodding knowingly and occasionally murmuring “Mm” during long passages, “You ask what We are: We are nothing, and yet something. Nothing, because We have neither life, nor being, nor form, and We are no spirit, not visible, not tangible; something, because We are the end of life, the end of existence, the beginning of nullity, a cross between the two. We are a happening that fells all people. Huge giants must fall before Us; all living beings must be transformed by Us. Let go! Do not lament a loss you cannot retrieve.”
2pm: Listen. He’s coming! Hush! Be quiet. He’s coming closer. Be calm. Don’t get excited. We better fly. No. No, don’t fly. Whatever you do, don’t fly. He’s almost here! I can’t stand it any longer!
11pm: Doing a reasonable amount of pushups before bathing my refreshed limbs with a cool wash-towel, examining my values in light of Terror Management Theory, becoming a Supple Leopard, ready to take care of the people around me and be cared for in return, realistic expectations for cooking beans (they’re nice to have on hand but cannot by themselves fix an entire foodway system)
2pm: There is no way to prove that there aren’t masses of spiders waiting silently behind the back of all the furniture in the house right now
11pm: We’ve got serious problems to solve, and we need serious men to solve them. And whatever your particular problem is, friend, I promise you, Bob Rumson is not the least bit interested in solving it. You want a character debate? Fine, but you better stick with me, ‘cause Sydney Ellen Wade is way out of your league.
I’ve loved two women in my life. I lost one to cancer, and I lost the other ‘cause I was so busy keeping my job, I forgot to do my job. Well, that ends right now…We’ve got serious problems, and we need serious men, and if you want to talk about character, Bob, you’d better come at me with more than a burning flag and a membership card. If you want to talk about character and American values, fine. Just tell me where and when, and I’ll show up. This is a time for serious men, Bob, and your fifteen minutes are up. My name’s Andrew Shepherd, and I am the President.
2pm: Another scorcher! Another scorcher! Tomorrow’s gonna be another scorcher! Another scorcher! And tomorrow’s gonna be even hotter! They say tomorrow’s gonna be another scorcher! They say tomorrow’s gonna be even hotter! Offer ends May 31st! He’s not calling, girl — there’s no one on the other end of the line! There never was such a thing as Sears, lion, cat, Aslan, lamp, sun, sky, life upon you, and even then the whole fire was never put out.
I very much regret reading the 2pm with the spiders. I didn’t need that in my life