Words and supermarkets
madrobins says it so very well here:
http://madrobins.livejournal.com/191374.html
I am an extremely fast reader, but wow, I am more behind every day. I resort to cheating on my timer, then am furious with myself for not getting to my list of tasks, but people are so fascinating, and it's all right there.
If we could ever get out of debt, I'd like to get a palm reader. I could catch up on so much of this stuff while sitting in the high school parking lot, or at red lights, or in traffic jams going to LA, in waiting lines everywhere. Of course that's where I get a lot of my reading done these days, though my hands have gotten bad enough that it pretty much has to be paperbacks.
With respect to this particular pond, the LiveJournal one, I adore having the biggest pie cut of my daily Netread on one list, which I scan at lightning speed, but the thing that makes it work is interactivity--commenting. When one stops to comment, that's a step toward communication, but it also cuts some of the reading off the list because of the great enemy--time. Then there's the awareness that white noise comments are phatic discourse instead of real...mumble mumble the kids need to go to school.
One more thought, while they are fumbling around finding shoes and school binders About supermarkets. I thought I was the only one who got overwhelmed looking at the sheer volume of available stuff, and I am so grateful, but at the same time, so often I get throat-tight thinking about those who are hungry, and the waste of the food not bought, and then I get anxious because I am hyper-aware of the fragility of the infrastructure--the aging infrastructure--and how in the blink of an eye it could all be gone, and we'd be scrabbling for food, for our lives. Who would come to L.A.'s rescue? Could it even be done, with all these millions close-packed into so small a space? Whine, moan, one can see why I am endlessly fascinated with the seductive idea of competence, after a lifetime sense of overwhelming incompetence and powerlessness in the face of big questions.
http://madrobins.livejournal.com/191374.html
I am an extremely fast reader, but wow, I am more behind every day. I resort to cheating on my timer, then am furious with myself for not getting to my list of tasks, but people are so fascinating, and it's all right there.
If we could ever get out of debt, I'd like to get a palm reader. I could catch up on so much of this stuff while sitting in the high school parking lot, or at red lights, or in traffic jams going to LA, in waiting lines everywhere. Of course that's where I get a lot of my reading done these days, though my hands have gotten bad enough that it pretty much has to be paperbacks.
With respect to this particular pond, the LiveJournal one, I adore having the biggest pie cut of my daily Netread on one list, which I scan at lightning speed, but the thing that makes it work is interactivity--commenting. When one stops to comment, that's a step toward communication, but it also cuts some of the reading off the list because of the great enemy--time. Then there's the awareness that white noise comments are phatic discourse instead of real...mumble mumble the kids need to go to school.
One more thought, while they are fumbling around finding shoes and school binders About supermarkets. I thought I was the only one who got overwhelmed looking at the sheer volume of available stuff, and I am so grateful, but at the same time, so often I get throat-tight thinking about those who are hungry, and the waste of the food not bought, and then I get anxious because I am hyper-aware of the fragility of the infrastructure--the aging infrastructure--and how in the blink of an eye it could all be gone, and we'd be scrabbling for food, for our lives. Who would come to L.A.'s rescue? Could it even be done, with all these millions close-packed into so small a space? Whine, moan, one can see why I am endlessly fascinated with the seductive idea of competence, after a lifetime sense of overwhelming incompetence and powerlessness in the face of big questions.