I've given up on the ineffable. I cannot effin' figure it out. I've moved on, instead, to smaller mysteries. I wonder, for instance, why my car tells me when it's 37 degree Fahrenheit? My car doesn't tell me if it's 35 degrees, or 12 degrees or even four degrees. My car pops up a little message on the dashboard screen, however, if it's exactly 37 degrees outside. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do with this information, so I've started logging it into a little ledger. I record the date, the time, the mileage and the temperature, which is always 37 degrees Fahrenheit. I assume someone is going to ask me at some point, when I go in for service, "How often have you driven this car in 37-degree weather?" What other reason could there be? So, like a good car owner, I log it into the 37-Degree Ledger and keep driving. I may not understand it, but I'm sure it's important. Probably it has something to do with Kevin Bacon. I don't know.
I haven't opened my eyes in almost six months. I've just been staying in the ruts. This is not meant to be understood as a metaphor but a literal fact. Opening your eyes always costs something and I've been a little short lately. I certainly hope I typed this correctly, since my eyes are supposedly closed and all. It's not true, of course. I could see that you didn't fall for it.
The 37-degree notification feature on my car is, I'm convinced, a bad implementation of someone's idea. This cannot be what they intended, whatever the specification said. Read through the specs, engineer. Ask yourself this question, "If I were a normal human being, how would I want this feature to work?"
Hello, friends. Cold?
Later. Love.
