Now that Noo is solidly on the path to melanoma wellness, I find myself with more time for my annual midlife crisis. The past several years, around the time of my birthday, I find myself succumbing to a certain disillusionment and generalized ennui. I do a lot of ass-dragging and complaining, find fault with my colleagues, bemoan the decline and fall of human civilization, read too many books and articles about crime/financial collapse/political instability/ovarian failure, and generally take stock of the daily tedium of Real Life:
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death.
I am inclined to notice the ruins in things