It was a Tuesday at work. That’s all I’m saying.

I’m almost done with this stupid antibiotic. I’ll be glad when it’s over so that I can get back to my normal “grazing” method of eating.

And I heard the Liebestraum (Dream of Love) by Franz Liszt today, flipping through the radio dial. It was a very delicate rendition of a tender, heartfelt song. And thanks to Spike Jones, my head just HAD to add in a zany little banjo ‘n’ trumpet bit. grrrrrr.

And I finished the Rilke I had been reading. It’s good, self-importance and extreme density notwithstanding, and I’ll probably wind up quoting him once or twice. (Uh-oh. Here it comes.) Much of his work is torn between lofty (”Somewhere blooms the blossom of parting and bestrews/evermore over us the pollen which we breathe:/even in the most-coming wind we are parting“) and lecherous (”Coax me to come forth to the summit:/so as to fling into your soft night,/with the soaring of a womb-dazzling rocket,/more feeling than I am quite.“), and his prose especially strains to reconcile the two (mostly by saying, in effect, “You’re too young for all that”). But his phrasing is superb and his imagery inspired (I especially like his bit about “living the questions”).

Ack. I HATE when I go on a literary-criticism rant.

So yeah. Rilke. Worth a read, but don’t rush it, take your time. Stick to the Liszt Liebestraum, and to the Spike Jones version of Cocktails for Two. And stay away from that impetigo because it sucks.

More good stuff tomorrow.