The Meat Sack and the Objects in Space

I'm not a very spiritual person. Although I think I am an empathetic and compassionate one. Mostly. I primarily consider humans to be meat sacks that do their worst to others (sometimes intentionally, mostly not) and then move on to another plane or maybe just dust. Meanwhile, we surround ourselves with and collide with objects. We somehow feel emotions, too. Grief at losses. Anxiety. (I feel anxious when forging new relations. Then I step back and say, "Wow, that's weird, why?") Joy, of course. But where does that come from?

I took the photo above a couple of months ago on a rare solitary walk. Usually, my husband, aka Forrest or FFP, goes with me. Over east of the Interstate in an area that is rapidly gentrifying, I discovered a recycling yard that had been there for ages. The new Fairmount hotel just on the other side of the highway seemed to rise up from this pile of metal junk.

I haven't written in the last couple of days. My eye had a collision with a tennis ball. Well, my glasses. The eye seems fine but I have bruising around it. It kind of set me back on my heels and I have been doing very little and what I've been doing has been slow. Not that I was really hurt. It was Saturday morning and right after the accident with the tennis ball I rushed home and iced it for a few hours to prevent much swelling. We went out that night to dinner with a school friend of FFP's. They hadn't seen each other in ages. He and his wife were nice. My eye was just starting to look bruised.

It's funny how accidents happen. Friday night we went to a very nice party with good food and drink. I had three cocktails. Maybe kinda strong. Was a little hungover Saturday and just going through the motions thinking I'd get home and drink a lot of water and get over it. We'd played a set and embarked on a second. One of the ladies had forgotten her racquet. The pro shop will gladly loan you racquets, but only kind of crappy ones unless you want to pay to rent a demo. She brought two of these old racquets out to the court. She's a good player and was blaming a few mishits on the racquet. I have two racquets. One is a few decades old. Its sobriquet is 'The Hammer' and it is supposed to help you generate power. I usually play with a newer one that plays almost exactly like the old one. Anyway, I offered to let her try the old one. On the next game my partner (who struggles to serve in the court and whose serves usually bounce hight), was serving. I was playing up toward the net, not really close. The lady holding my racquet who, I swear, almost always hits an angle away from the net person, returned the ball. In that instant, I thought I'd get my racquet in front of my face but I saw a gigantic ball coming right to my left eye and boom! I was sitting on the ground, clutching my glasses. I didn't feel hungover now. Just feeling that eye to see the damage. One wonders: if I hadn't been hungover or if I hadn't loaned the racquet or if we hadn't switched to new balls....

Anyway, I've been lazy. Did a tiny bit of decorating for Christmas. Finished a jigsaw puzzle. Worked a bunch of crosswords, read papers. Barely left the apartment. I did start considering taxes. Paid my property taxes. Paid some bills. I started thinking about the budget for 2020.

Anyway, objects in space. There are so many things that sorting them, cleaning them, considering them becomes a full-time job. It makes me tired. And I'm going to talk about it more tomorrow. Maybe.