A Morning

This morning I was awoken by a rude telemarketing recording trying to sell me a home security system. I hung up on it, which is uncharacteristic. Normally I can't bring myself to be rude to telemarketers, because I know that it must be a terrible job, and I feel pity for them. That pity, of course, never stops me from turning them down. This morning, however, when the phone rang at 8:22 and it was a recording, I was just plain annoyed.

I then spent the next hour staring at the ceiling, petting the two cats who were being increasingly affectionate in order to get me to feed them, and listening to the sounds of traffic, sirens, and someone's radio in the distance. Wait, radio in the distance? Now that's odd. It would have to be the immediate neighbours, and they'd have to have it up really loudly for me to be hearing it so clearly. Where on earth was it coming from? I went to the window, and the sound was farther away. Ah ha. One of the cats had stepped on the radio next to the bed, which is turned down low enough that I can only just hear it.

Truth be told, I don't really know where the time went this morning. I've been in some strange sort of trance, wandering around, listening to the sounds of life going on, and having thoughts about whether anyone out there making all that noise in the world, is actually living. What's the difference between simply being alive, and living?

Maybe that book Jackie had me read got to me. I think likely it did.