One of the clearest indicators for me that I'm either entering or in a black hole is that I stop listening to music, I stop hearing music inside my head. I'm not like the Mozart character in Amadeus, but I have a soundtrack going inside my head most of the time. It's either classical or jazz or rock n roll, but it's something. And when it goes away, it means I'm down for the count in a big way.
My late friend Paul had a stroke several years ago, at a relatively early age for that sort of thing, and one of the things he couldn't do was listen to music. This is a guy that owned hundreds of jazz recordings in all formats from vinyl to mp3, he couldn't decode what he was hearing until his brain and thinking power had time to settle back into a reasoning format.
And so it's been lately for me, the DSL and phone difficulties certainly didn't help, but for the last few weeks, it's been very dark. And with the darkness went any urge for any sort of sex activity, and this means a real drought here, because She takes behavior mod drugs that just about do in Her libido, and She has to be led to it all the time, albeit willingly.
But I'm back, sitting here with an erection the size of a barber pole, after having read Mrs Kelly's Playhouse and one or two other blogs that I check periodically. I'm back to who I am, and boy does it feel good.
Earworms: ELO-Mr. Blue Skies, Phil Collins-Take Me Home (extended)