Winter has commenced. Based on the dire foretellings of the weather beavers, last night was a drip night. The new taps in the west toilets were put to test and generally proved better but not faultless. The air temperatures this morning seem to be disproving the prophecies but that is not immediately relevant. But it does indicate that there has been scant improvement in Weather Beaver methodology.
The last two days have been harsh. Too much to do and too little slack to get it done. And hampered by a severe sinus drainage that seems to alternate in manifestation between an unretirable cough and a disbalancing malaise. The latter is minor but time warping and bruise inducing.
FD SCP and I were awakened at midnight – plus a few seconds – by the sounds of minor explosives and irritating people. The grrr brrr was short lived and I briefly arose to inspect drippages and then returned to slumber, a testament to my physician and his scripts for prostate medications. That indicates – I hope – a lowering of stress in some part due to the new taps. Not the solution I wanted but perhaps close enough for a while.
I have reflected this morning on the custom of greeting the midnight of the year’s end. As with many human activities it seems rather a case of a foundation built in sand, or perhaps a swamp? The starting of the new year is almost completely arbitrary and only poorly connected with anything measurable like the solstice or the turn point of Tellus’ orbit around Sol. The year is largely a construct to approximately correspond to the Solar orbit and the seasons, which were more important when we were an agrarian society. The day is equally approximately, at least in rough details. But given that the minions of Corporate Oligarchs happily tinker with the clock why should we expect any rationality in these occurrences? And how much of this is just extros looking for any reason to be socially irresponsible and disrupt the lives of rational intros?
Which leads me to speculate that perhaps the new taps are extro? That would explain some of their strange noises in the night that I fear will be remarked sharply by FD SCP.
At least now we may move on from the stress of holiday season, at least here in Nawth Alibam, and embrace the stress that is winter. There seems some conservation law that the product of stress and duration is a constant. But how to measure objectively?