Hiss anxiety

You know when you can just tell it’s going to be one of those days? I woke up and started reading “ Everything Is Illuminated” and while it’s really entertaining the first thing I really think is “I’ll never be able to be a writer, look how good this guy is and apparently he’s quite young. I’ll never be that inventive.”
Then I abandon the book because it’s very humour is depressing me as a result.
I turn on TV and everything on is either depressing or banal.
I start rubbing the heels of my hands together and there’s anxiety in my chest.
Then I light a cigarette and smoke and then put it out long and then pick it up and re-light it a few minutes later.
Then I start thinking about the line from Snib’s unwritten song, or maybe it did end up being performed by his later band “All You Can Eat”. The line is “rub your hands, your face, with ointment, everything is disappointment”
A stupid Snib like line really but it is unforgettable for me. It has kept popping up time after time for years and years and years.
So I have to just get up and start doing something, cooking is good, it’s a form of creating and it requires imagination and it offers a good result. The problem is that I didn’t prepare by getting enough groceries. I’ll have to make something up.
Yesterday I cleaned out the fridge, it was a bit desperate. I hate throwing all that stuff out, it makes me crazy, but with all the schedule shifting and the heat I was not cooking like usual. I would buy what normally would be necessary but then not have the time or withal to make it.
But now we’re really poor and there has to be no more American style waste. Also thinking of people starving to death in great quantities in football arenas makes it horrendous to be throwing out the leftover baked beans.
There is a good thing, which is I was able to make an offering to a monk yesterday. It was odd. As I looked out my window, I saw what I thought was a Krishna and an old black man talking in front of my house. Then I realized it was a monk and one of my Sangha members. I went out to interject myself as I always have a fascination with monks.
It was very odd as the monk had the 8 auspicious symbols tattooed on his arms and I said ” That’s so strange, I was going to have those very tattoos' on my arms as part of my sleeves before I got too sick to be tattooed.” We gave each other that look of shared strangeness.
I had a key to the house he was staying at, which he had left his behind so I let him in.
Then I was looking in the fridge while making dinner and thought “let me make an offering of my ferociously awesome homemade yoghurt” so I did.
I was once able to make an offering of my yoghurt to (I believe) Bardo Tulku.
That was a fantastic opportunity. See now just thinking about that makes me feel better. So, I see how generosity has it’s results on many levels.
My typing is sure getting faster.