Annus Horribilis. Sounds awful, doesn't it? Like some festering blight of the back-passage? Well it's not. For the benefit of those not clued-up on Latin, it means, "Horrible Year"; a phrase intended to be the title of my magnum opus (for last year anyway), a summation of the 12 or so months recently passed. A horrid time. A time of unspeakable, barely bloggable events. A living horror. Apart, of course, from the four holidays: three cruises and sojourn into the Emerald Isle. But still, a veritable nightmare. Though in fairness, those moments of joy, of pure escapism - when watching films and reading books for instance - should be excluded, along with the jollity and hilarity of the office-banter, and those brief, but meditative moments spent on the daily train journey into work (oh how I love travelling). But apart from these, it's been hell, it really has... I mean... well... sorry, but I just can't talk about it.
Fiat Lux. Or, as they say around these parts, "Let there be light". I say this apropos of nothing, other than to operate on the age-old writer's maxim, "when you've nothing to say, bung in a few foreign phrases for effect!". So, wihout further ado, I shall carpe diem and move forth... and talking of light, I've navigated this winter so far without the usual woe-is-me I'm depressed grumblings; though, in my defence, I beleive I'm a victim of that pernicious affliction, Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD); which is why I've purchased a SAD light. I wont bore you with the technical details (mainly because I don't know them) but I'll guess and say, it provides a light of the requisite brightness, akin to that of bright daylight, thus increasing serotonin levels in the nervous system. Result: a measure of well-being. So it's not unusual to see me tapping away at me laptop in the glare of this white light, at something around regulo 7(180C), and basting myself with thoughts of... well never you mind.. seems to work. And besides, it could be worse, I could live in Finland, land of the sunless days, polar bears, wolverines, and kangaroos... no, that can't be right... aren't polar bears from the Antarctic?
We've had an unusual amount of snow recently. I've always thought, "there's nothing like a bit of snow to make you think!". And it's true. It snowed, and would you believe... I actually thought! No sooner had it laid itself in pristine crystalline form only to begin thawing, when an idea came into my mind, it said... nay... it shouted, "Entropy!" Referring to that Universal movement of all things from order to disorder. This snow, thought I, represents the whole of the cosmos in microcosm, the inexorable move towards chaos (for an alternative metaphor, think of the annual Office Party, how it begins as opposed to its end). S'true. Though there might be an exception. Looking at mother confirms the hypothesis. In extreme old-age she's been entropolized real good: from a glowing, poised youth, she's now shrivelled, stooped and enfeebled, but...despite this fact, it's important to her to ensure the rubbish is put out in time for the bin-men. The idea itself, though seeded an age ago, remains intact. It's impervious to the degradation of her body and Universal laws, and I'm sure, even on her death-bed she'll hoarsely whisper, "have you put the bag out?". I like this idea. I like to think for a brief period at least, we're able to cock a snook at the Universe, to waggle our willies at it, metaphorically speaking, and cry, "FUCK YOU ENTROPY!"
* Buenas noches (Spanish) meaning, good night.