Flat Bored

Dream Song 14

Life, friends, is boring. We must not say so.
After all, the sky flashes, the great sea yearns,
we ourselves flash and yearn,
and moreover my mother told me as a boy
(repeatingly) "Ever to confess you're bored
means you have no
Inner Resources." I conclude now I have no
inner resources, because I am heavy bored.
--John Berryman

Taiga got so tired of watching me read that he settled into a heavy trance that looks flat bored. I am not bored. Boredom does not come often to me because I have massive inner resources. I find projects and passions and reasons to be excited, but I do know loneliness, a hunger for touch, a desire to hold someone warm and alive close to my heart.

I fear I will be without an animal again soon. Taiga is funny and dear, and he loves to sit on my chest and purr, and he is everything I have ever wanted in an animal companion, but despite his record-low Feld1 levels, I am coughing and sneezing, my eyes are swelling up, and I am afraid that this is all cat allergy and I may be unable to live with him. I have had him professionally bathed and groomed. I have put covers over the furniture and am washing them twice a week. I have an air filter. I am vacuuming the floor every day. I'm taking Allegra. I will try everything I can to hold onto him. But I might as well go ahead with the cat blips while I can.  I may not be able to live with him much longer.

Wendy and the Lost Boys: The Uncommon Life of Wendy Wasserstein, by Julie Salamon, is 460 pages long. I can hardly put it down, and when I put it down, I am consumed with the question whether this illness I seem to have now is an illness or an allergy. I will call the doctor's office tomorrow.