Back to Bed

Do you ever feel like doing nothing, but does doing nothing seem elusive?  I knew you’d understand.

After seeing one inpatient after another and interviewing numerous unemployed people with an array of hair-raising tales, I knew one thing: Time to cook fish.

Hiramasa, pan seared with roasted kabocha and baby bok choy washed down with a Chevillion Pinot.  Not bad, but not enough to clear my head and prevent tosses and turns in the bleak light of 3 A.M.

I do know the cure, however: I Am Ozzy!  arrives tomorrow.  Townsend, quoted in today’s NYT says that it’s a great rock memoir.  He oughta know.

Meanwhile, still seeking distractions from pending events: A blog in Psychology Today that the editors asked me to start; pieces on The Golden Triangle and Japanese whisky; a book party in February; and, a beef trip to Tokyo in January.

Me?  I’d rather go back to bed.

 

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