Bed Rotting : It must be dull viewing, for bed rotting is nothing more than a jokey name for staying in bed all day not doing much more than watching television and fiddling with a telephone. It's very popular with people aged 12 to 27 (Gen Z) who feel burnt out, on account of lockdown and parental expectations.
It would seem that this ancient 82 year old man is ahead of the game and part of this latest trend!
But perhaps my frequent bed rotting, where I am in my bed until noon with my cats, and then on the bed with my cats until the evening when I turn off the lights to sleep with my cats, is a tad different.
I have written before how because the pre-Socratic philosophers did not have any books to read, they did lots of thinking. This is something that I do when I am on my bed with my cats.
It is while I am in thought that I get ideas for blogs, or in contacting people I have not heard from for a long time. I like that American term “tying up loose ends”. It fits the bill just right at this time of the year as you figure out who is left in your life. Most friends and family are dead.
It is while I find some of these people (I avoid that horrible Linkedin) who may have land lines. If they no longer have a land line, and no web page, then they are lost to me.
A friend left a message on my phone today telling me that if I want to talk to him I have to first text him at en email. I will not do that. Another friend has never called me back in the countless times I have left a message on his answering machine.
I feel paranoid sometimes and I stare at myself in the mirror while thinking , “Is there something wrong with me?”
By the end of the day the lyrics of Captain Beefheart’s song Ashtray Heart come to mind: Somebody’s had too much to think
You used me like an ashtray heart
Case of the punks
Right from the start
I feel like a glass shrimp in a pink panty
With a saccharine chaperone
Make invalids out of supermen
Call in a "shrink"
And pick you up in a girdle
You used me like an ashtray heart
Right from the start
Case of the punks
Another day, another way
Somebody's had too much to think
Open up another case of the punks
Each pillow is touted like a rock
The mother / father figure
Somebody's had too much to think
Send your mother home your navel
Case of the punks
New hearts to the dining rooms
Violet heart cake
Dissolve in new cards, boards, throats, underwear
You picked me out, brushed me off
Crushed me while I was burning out
Then you picked me out
Like an ashtray heart
Hid behind the curtain
Waited for me to go out
A man on a porcupine fence
Used me for an ashtray heart
Hit me where the lover hangs out
Stood behind the curtain
While they crushed me out
You used me for an ashtray heart
You looked in the window when I went out
You used me like an ashtray heart.
