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ballot and ballet
2012-Nov-06, Tuesday 10:42 pmI messed up twice today. It's been happening too often in recent weeks. The trend is an inability to interrupt intended routines. It's like a minor part of my old behavior (the auto-pilot) from pre-diagnosis days is reappearing, and I am not thrilled.
I drove this morning to my precinct and voted. I voted for Obama. I didn't mean to, and I'm unhappy about it. I wanted to vote for Jill Stein. I did not bring a complete cheat sheet with me this time as I had in previous years. I think that difference led to the mistake. I noticed the error before I turned in my ballot. I considered asking for a new one, but the "momentum" of the expected ritual procedure kept me locked in to continue my voting process. Obama was a choice I could live with, so I didn't pierce through the familiar voting protocol to forge a new experience. Instead, I drove away annoyed with myself. I couldn't remember afterwards how I voted on the marriage amendment. Hopefully I made the intended choice there.
I drove this evening to the Heights theater to watch a movie instead of election results. I paid my entrance fee (which was significantly higher than usual) and got my popcorn before realizing that they were showing a ballet instead of a movie. I didn't want to watch a ballet, and I was unhappy about another personal mistake. They were doing one of those simulcast presentations of a Royal Opera House production of Swan Lake. There were about 20 people there. I'm convinced that I was the only customer under the age of 65.
Ballet makes about as much sense to me as American football. I can see that both efforts require lots of stamina and strength and skill. But what's the point of watching it? I'm sure there must be a story in the ballet somewhere. All of those synchronized, mute, epileptic pantomimes are going on about something, but I can't detect the signal amidst the noise. All that's missing is an inflated pig bladder, then my befuddlement would be complete.
What the difference between a ballerina and a running back? I can't tell. They both run around in tights. Is that man having sex with that swan? He was aiming his crossbow at her a minute ago, and now he's dancing close with her. What's going on? Shouldn't somebody be chasing a leather ball for no conceivable reason? I'm sure ballet and football are rewarding challenges to actually DO them well, but I don't understand the point of WATCHING them being done by others.
That was my day. I hope yours was better. I keep taking my B12 (and I've added vitamin D too) and hoping for more improvements.
I drove this morning to my precinct and voted. I voted for Obama. I didn't mean to, and I'm unhappy about it. I wanted to vote for Jill Stein. I did not bring a complete cheat sheet with me this time as I had in previous years. I think that difference led to the mistake. I noticed the error before I turned in my ballot. I considered asking for a new one, but the "momentum" of the expected ritual procedure kept me locked in to continue my voting process. Obama was a choice I could live with, so I didn't pierce through the familiar voting protocol to forge a new experience. Instead, I drove away annoyed with myself. I couldn't remember afterwards how I voted on the marriage amendment. Hopefully I made the intended choice there.
I drove this evening to the Heights theater to watch a movie instead of election results. I paid my entrance fee (which was significantly higher than usual) and got my popcorn before realizing that they were showing a ballet instead of a movie. I didn't want to watch a ballet, and I was unhappy about another personal mistake. They were doing one of those simulcast presentations of a Royal Opera House production of Swan Lake. There were about 20 people there. I'm convinced that I was the only customer under the age of 65.
Ballet makes about as much sense to me as American football. I can see that both efforts require lots of stamina and strength and skill. But what's the point of watching it? I'm sure there must be a story in the ballet somewhere. All of those synchronized, mute, epileptic pantomimes are going on about something, but I can't detect the signal amidst the noise. All that's missing is an inflated pig bladder, then my befuddlement would be complete.
What the difference between a ballerina and a running back? I can't tell. They both run around in tights. Is that man having sex with that swan? He was aiming his crossbow at her a minute ago, and now he's dancing close with her. What's going on? Shouldn't somebody be chasing a leather ball for no conceivable reason? I'm sure ballet and football are rewarding challenges to actually DO them well, but I don't understand the point of WATCHING them being done by others.
That was my day. I hope yours was better. I keep taking my B12 (and I've added vitamin D too) and hoping for more improvements.