Labor Day Swim

Since evolving into H. sapiens ___ years ago, did we keep a little portion of our pre-Alzheimer's brains reserved to remember passwords?

I can remember combinations that are otherwise meaningless, just by going to a familiar site that asks. Like this one.

For others, Hulu, PayPal, YouTube, I never recall.

Once I had my bank account one scratched onto the wall.

Supposedly this is the last day of summer. Only Americans would truncate something on a technicality such as back-to-school. Daylight (un)Savings time is even weeks away, not to mention the equinox. On the other hand, if summer-proper begins with the last week of May (when technical spring is still in session), I suppose it's o.k.

Still, why manipulate nature so much? It will be hot for weeks to come; yet, if you do not happen to own your own swimming pool or live near a decently clean body of water, there's no more outdoor (clothed) bathing for you. I know all things must end, but the annual arbitrary hammerline of Labor Day (as much as I admire hammers and labor and the people who gave their lives to change our standard, even if not adhered-to, work-week into 40 hours) is silly. Silly as all arbitrary things are.

I read Jeanette Winterson's The Stone Gods yesterday; chapter 1 was a re-read from a week or so ago. It takes a minute to get back into her reality. Anyway, humans are doomedly repeat actions of destruction. I want to read her take on Amazonia, ie: what if women were in charge. I have had this second-hand book for years. I tried to read it once before.

This person typing here has not left the house since Friday night, coming home in Isaac's rain, from a movie loosely labelled as a documentary.

That night was cold, for a woman in sandals and a sleeveless dress, made in Vietnam, polyester, off-white with a closed-umbrella pattern in black. Second-hand, as well.

The daytime has been sunny and hot enough to swim ever since Sunday.

I have work to do, the sort of work that brought me to tears of resistance for at least a fortnight, work that, as always, once I embark on it properly, will seem natural, important and good.

Tired of fighting myself. Meanwhile, there's something like a politcal party-party going on, and everyone there seems drunk and about to fall into the swimming pool and drown.