You’ve probably been wondering what happened to me. “She was writing every day for so long and then it petered out and she disappeared into the ether! What could have happened? Did she suffer an enormous blow to her charmed life? Was she not able to cope with the devastating effects of ennui? Anything could have happened?!”

Never fear. It was nothing serious. Just life happening along its happy little path, catching the big toe of its clown-sized Converse on a small pebble and tipping forward, catching itself but then, realizing it was being watched, deciding to make a big show of a small mishap and do a double somersault, attempt to land on its feet but land on its head, knocking itself unconscious for a moment. When it came to, there was an overwhelming amount of work piled up around it, so it stood up, dusted itself off, stuffed its hands into its parachute pants pockets and sauntered off whistling a tune and hoping no one would notice.

I think I’ve OD’d on Douglas Adams lately. Looks around sheepishly. But what else can you do when you get in a funk and can’t seem to find your way out? It all started when I took a few days off from my entire routine to visit with my parents, and when I got back, I just couldn’t get back on track. Much was achieved during those four days, many notes were taken, a-ha moments were had, and I came back a slightly different person. On top of that I was still reading, still thinking, still listening to podcasts, gathering books from bookstores, and adding more titles to my ever-expanding TBR list, but I hadn’t had any intelligent way of sharing any of it.

It’s happened before and I know it will happen again (because it is happening now), but here I am wondering where and how to jump back in and restart the flow. That thought has been overwhelming, so true to form, I just didn’t. Like my friend Life, I stuffed my hands in my pockets and sauntered away, but instead of whistling, I got another giant glass of iced coffee and picked up The Ultimate Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and hid inside.

Remember when I went into Barnes & Noble (I swear for the last time) just to pick up that book and then walked out so much poorer in cash and not much richer in books?

Hitchhiker’s is the book I jump into when I “just can’t” anymore. Can’t what? Can’t. Just plain can’t. It’s fun and hilarious and has brilliant lines like, “I’m so hip I can’t even see over my pelvis.” I originally started reading the books in high school, I think. My dad shared it with me, and we’ve been laughing about it ever since. We know the answer and have been helping to look for the question. We’re real cool froods, man.

Although I haven’t been able to get my sons to read the books, they are far too serious, when they were younger, I did get them to carry towels with me on Towel Day. And they are well aware of significance of 42.

For the past week, I’ve been spending my morning hitchhiking with Ford across the galaxy. Time not wasted. My brain needed the break. I’m halfway through this collection of “five novels in one outrageous volume” and, believe it or not, it isn’t all random craziness. There is reason and depth.

I’ve been thinking a lot about Marvin, the terminally depressed robot, and I think I may write a whole post about it. The meaning of life, the concept of sentience, improbability, and so much more all comes up to make you laugh and (if you’re paying attention) think in these books.

This morning I’ve spent quite some time procrastinating…again. I’m very good at it, so I’m not all that sure why I spend so much time practicing, but I do. Suddenly, it came to me. I’ve reached critical mass. I know exactly where I’ll pick up and start writing. Right exactly where I am. The past is gone, the future is unknown, but right now, right here…that’s real, at least as far as my senses can tell. I could be dreaming, but as Mickey says, “This is MY dream!” So, I’ll do what I want. And what I want is to tell you, once again, that I’m back and I’m reading, and I’m excited to start sharing what I find with you again.

One more thing before I run off. So much of Douglas Adams is quotable. This time around, I find myself reminded of Dr. Who and Rick & Morty, both shows I hadn’t seen when I’ve read the book before. I’ve been putting down a mark at lines that I literally LOL’d at and this one… you’ll love it.

“All right!” bawled Vroomfondel, banging on a nearby desk. “I am Vroomfondel, and that is not a demand, that is a solid fact! What we demand is solid facts!”
“No, we don’t!” exclaimed Majikthise in irritation. “That is precisely what we don’t demand!”
Scarcely pausing for breath, Vroomfondel shouted, “We don’t demand solid facts! What we demand is a total absence of solid facts. I demand that I may or may not be Vroomfondel!”
“But who the devil are you?” exclaimed an outrage Fook.
“We,” said Majikthise, “are Philosophers.”
“Though we may not be,” said Vroomfondel, waving a warning finger at the programmers.

Reminds me of a Monty Python skit.