The Hardest Word to Spell

annihilated

I’ve just drunk (the past participle of “drink” is “drunk” though many people, in spoken English, say “drank”; in 50 years this will probably be completely acceptable) a cup of instant coffee made from hard-boiled egg water. Delicious? Obviously. Think of the nutrients! While most people drink coffee with filtered, pure, sweet water using some kind of reverse osmosis method, my water comes from a well under the ground and is mixed with the essence of eggshell. I’m convinced this will make me strong.

In fact, maybe I’ll drink another cup.

I must work on the novel this morning, and take the test for my new online job working for a company called Appen. I’m technically not supposed to work outside of the US for this new job, so I’m using an app called Tunnel Bear to “tunnel” into a server in the US. So instead of looking like I’m in the forest in MEH-hee-ko I look like I’m in the Bronx. Or somewhere in New York. I can’t remember where.

(side note: the song “Africa” by Toto has just come on, and I’m instantly nostalgic; I’d say I spend 4-5 hours each day in the punishing grip of nostalgia).

I also need to figure out where the EFF I’m going to say as of Sunday. Should I stay here and be an indentured servant? Should I move into Guadalajara? Why are decisions like this so crippling?

I might as well tell you now I fell in love for the 346th time yesterday. God. It took about five minutes. I think it was when I saw her carrying her phone with her left hand. I thought, Oh my God she’s left-handed, we’re destined to be together. Think of the wonderful little left-handed creatures we can make. Think how creative they’ll be! Right-handed people are so lame!

This coffee has adversely affected my brain today. I don’t want to talk about anything having to do with “nomads.” I don’t want to talk about my uncertain future. In fact, I want to talk about the Tao Te Ching. Every time I read the Tao Te Ching: A New English Version (Perennial Classics) (always the Stephen Mitchell translation, which is something short of sublime), I take something new from it. When I listened to it the other day the part that spoke to me was the part about fear disappearing when the self disappears. Basically, it says that if you want fear to disappear, you must stop thinking of yourself as separate from everything else in the universe. Think of every person, every living thing, every non-living thing, every rock, every tree, every washing machine, as an extension of yourself, and treat it accordingly. When there is no self, how can you worry about the self being annihilated (I’ve probably spelled the word “annihilated” right without the aid of spellcheck twice in my life)?

Anyway, now the song “Wake me up before you go-go” has just come on and I do kind of want to be annihilated. And I also want another cup of coffee. And I also want my fingers to not be so cold. And I also want to take a moment to commune with the things around me that are really just an extension of myself: this computer, this table, this cup of coffee, this trash can, this bottle of water. This bowl of dog and cat food. This hose. This grass. This terrible music. This yearning.

Here’s the book, linked to in my pathetic attempt to garner affiliate earnings:

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