tomorrow is almost here

This day is almost over, without a blog  Busy, though.  And thinking.  Tomorrow morning will come so soon it's hardly worth writing a blog right now.

How was your day?  Have you reached the stage where everything you encounter during the day becomes part of an obstacle course?  Either it's "clean me, feed me or toss me" or it's a reminder of something in  your past that leads to something else.  Is that clear? I think so. Pick any object and it carries with it a long vapour trail of memory, often quite messy and hard to get rid of.  Proust's "essence des choses" was simple compared tho this.

I took the elevator this morning, as I do every day of course, and I thought of Winnie, the elevator operator in the office building in Winnipeg where my father worked. She wore a uniform and white gloves  and had very thin, no-colour hair. I was just a kid and she was always nice to me. She ran the elevator pushing a lever around a circular dial and I guess she had to manoeuvre it so the floor level of the elevator matched the floor level it stopped at.  That must have been why she wore gloves.  And that's all I know about that.  The gloves led me to another memory connected with someone else.  

I'm not sure blogs are good for one.  They lead to too much clutter. And more to come.