Crawling out of Ennui.

It’s been an ennui-charged day today. Can a day be ennui-charged? Let’s call it ennui-soaked instead. Or how about ennui-smothered? Ennui-choked? One of those days when you’re both bored and agitated at the same time, no matter what you’re doing – in my case, more painting in the kitchen. Whatever term you use, it meant having the will to communicate, but nothing to say.

(The wind didn’t help. You wait all winter for the fresh green leaves to appear on the trees, and then a gale force wind comes along and blows them off.)

Eventually I found something that amused me. I read about sleep positions and their relationship to personality types. It seems my left leg is a Foetus type, but my right leg belongs to a Log. No wonder I get confused.

And what is this thing I’ve got about the song Golden Brown? Its appeal never fades. I get transported every time I hear it, mainly to prowling around the Pyramids after dark in the sultry heat of August, and then drinking myself into oblivion in the faded grandeur of a colonial Cairo hotel bar. Maybe it’s all about the fabled romance of Egypt, or maybe just a syncopated version of romance period. Or maybe the appeal stems from its presumed allusion to a beautiful woman and the habit of snorting cocaine, whereas the drummer once said in an interview that it’s really all about Marmite. Maybe that’s the answer: it has my sense of humour.