Is there anybody out there?

I am in some sort of constant Pink Floyd haze today. I’ve been spacier and spacier the past few weeks, forgetting more than I remember. Today I am downright odd. I keep finding myself staring. I don’t know how long I spent in the shower staring at the ceiling, thinking about absolutely nothing, but when I realized I was doing it I also realized I had forgotten what I was doing. Soap? Shampoo? What’s next?

I stare out the window to see the temperature by the way the people are dressed. I then forget why I am staring out the window and lose myself in the windows of the shoe store across the street, the double jogging stroller, the child on a Razor scooter, the one woman wearing a coat, the kids arriving at Score to better their math abilities (hurry, hurry, little children – you can’t get to fourth grade if you can’t pass the test!), the idling cars in the bus stop, the waiters at the Indian restaurant setting the tables and opening up the front to let the day in, the Tasti-D-Lite and its neon, the renovated wine store with its too-big sign, the noise. Again with the noise. I could spend the whole damn day spying on the good people of Park Slope, but I catch myself eventually.

I haven’t blogged yet.

I am naked.

Clothes. Computer. Lunch.

This is overwhelming.