I’m a little bit burnt out. That’s the only thing I can think of to explain it. I’ve had several people ask me why I look so sad and I’m not, really, I’m just thinking about something else and so not thinking about smiling. I’m not even in a bad mood, I just don’t have the energy to keep up appearances right now, you know?
Of course, reading J.G. Ballard’s Millennium People this week probably didn’t help. It’s rife with good ideas, clever references, and bags of satire. It also isn’t especially good. It’s overwritten, with more figurative language than a LiveJournal poetry group. It isn’t remotely believable, but I doubt that it’s meant to be. Ballard is in his element putting a magnifying glass on the warts and boils of the middle class and turning them into full-blow horrors, but I caught myself thinking “Oh, come on” at least a dozen times. It’s worth reading but I doubt that I’ll ever re-read it, if that makes sense.
So, to put myself in a better mood, I’m finally getting around to reading Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale. It’s one I’ve been meaning to read for ages and I finally picked it up when I saw it in the half price section at the book store. I’m sure it’ll be just the pick-me-up I’m looking for.
‘Tis the season for familial obligations, so I’ll be doing some driving up and down the interstate over the next few weeks. It is exceedingly unlikely that anything of interest will occur during these visits, so expect mostly updates about what I’m reading, how poorly my football team is doing, and some new song that hit me over the head and changed my life.
I’ll probably be dressing the cats up like little Santas if I can find the right gear.