Cellar dwellers

Sometimes the isolation wrought by organic brain syndrome is the specter you host, like it or not, on a drop-in basis. Actually, it’s always there, but sometimes it contents itself with living in the basement where you can sometimes sort of ignore it like that whiff of eau de kitty litter box. Other times it wants to hover in the kitchen, radiating its mood-deadening vibe into the shared atmosphere.

Warning: Do not watch movies such as P.S. I Love You, Love Actually, or even Mamma Mia when the specter is living upstairs. Back to the Future or anything Harry Potter are acceptable.

Clarence the muse and I have been having a little trouble finding time to get much accomplished. It’s my fault this time--I can’t pin it on Clarence. I like this Japanese stuff, see, and am doubling up on the books. The basement job is there and wants doing. (If it’s more orderly maybe the specter will stay down there? Doubt it.) And getting up at 5:15 a.m. puts me in afternoon nap mode. Hence, Clarence rarely can get any of my freshest brain time. Perhaps reality can catch up to my good intentions. We don’t want Clarence moving into the basement.