There really is very little to do. In all likelihood whatever you did today or will do tomorrow cannot be done on a 37' boat at sea. After the ocean and the birds loose their novelty there isn't much stimulation. All day my mind wanders and races to fill the void. In a 24 hour period I spend equal parts, 9 hours each, day- dreaming and dreaming.* Albeit I try to be as productive as possible with all this thinking time.
My deepest reflection time I call my "Oscar Wilde Time", which happens each night after dinner from 8pm - 1am. Thereby I devote 1/5 of my day to intense rumination of 5 general topics:
1. My imaginary wedding
2. Patterns/fabrics and their interplay with furniture
3. Fictitious witty conversations I would like to have
4. Oratory rhetoric
5. Letters and invitations I would like to compose (and the appropriate stationary/linen stock/hue etc.)
The remaining 3 hours of thinking time (typically in late morning) involve wild violent fantasies. Yesterday I look up from my Joyce novel for just a moment and am transported to East Atlanta. There I am driving a early '60s Cadillac with several attractive friends when hooded marauders attempt to car-jack my "whip". In the ensuing moments I fetter a would be bandit to the steering wheel with fuzzy dice. I drag my to the nearest police station mustering sensational invective after invective. In the back seat friends watch with horror my violent indifference, crying and in disbelief. This goes on in my head for quite a while. In defense I suppose day-dreams such as these necessarily counter-balance my fantasies where-in these same friends fawn over my taffeta upholstered Henredon settees.
* The remaining 6 hours of non-sleep involve reading for 5 with the balance endeavored to trim sails, eat, use the head and stare blankly at the sea.
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