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Tuesday, Dec. 31, 2002 / 3:14 p.m. ~Losing My Sense of Continuity, Whilst Watching Intelligent Teleplays~ Sometimes I find myself sitting very still, or lying very still, to accomodate a cat who is quite comfortable next to me, or on top of me, beside me. Today it was Gladys beneath the covers, but I had to sit up, I had to clear my throat, I wanted some coffee, etc. I slept until 1:30, and I know I dreamed more again. Again. I'm attributing the recent spate of dream activity to my period. In fact, I've got to remember to take note next month, see if that's when it starts, the intense dreaming, just before and just at the beginning thereof. Ooooh, I have a fluffy cat beside me now, rubbing, wagging her fluffy tail, all "Pat me!!", and etc. So, I had to get up to do things, but I was lying in bed to watch the "Twilight Zone" marathon on SciFi, and I will return in a moment. One of, if not the, most intelligent programs ever to be aired over the free networks. Rod Serling was a genius. I have a biography, and I'm sure if I would only read it my opinion might change - this must be why I do not. Ah, but one day, surely. The episode just on was about a man who loathes his own race for its self-destructive nature, but who longs to change it, to change the course of man's violent history, going back in time, trying to save as many thousands as possible in Hiroshima, or to divert the Lusitania, or to assassinate Hitler in his prime... but he realizes he cannot. So he goes back to small town Indiana, circa 1881, and, well, I had to go make coffee. But I know things were happening there, and he felt so helpless because he knew he could not alter one single event, could not save one life, because ALL of history would change along with it. A huge and daunting ripple effect. Ah, the bane of time travel. My neck and head hurt, and I'm not sure if it's the way I lay in bed to watch that first episode, the one about the horrors of war and its effects on the minds of the men who live through it. The submarine and the men who went down, the one who survived, but it turns out was actually dead, or wha??? So, Gladys had to get up, sorry, I couldn't pull her to me close enough, she has her own mind. But I have coffee, and hours of "Twilight Zone", and later hours of "Iron Chef" if I care to do that again (they did that once before, or more, and I was glued to the set, didn't even stop to bathe one New Year's Eve - ended up online chatting in a Food Network chatroom with other addicts). The cats probably think things are way off, me working, me home, me working, me home, they've lost all sense of continuity, and so have I. But this feels good, and there is a fridge filled with Thai food, for later. Cost of the War in Iraq
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