HOW TO MAKE A BLOMELET, p. III: THE YOLK OF TO BE AND THE SCRAMBLE

This entry is a sin against culinary social media. This was to be the third “egg” in my groundbreaking “blomelet” series. To recap, in the first entry of this daring serial, entitled “HOW TO MAKE A BLOMELET: DO NOT ADD WATER”, I discover the shocking link between brain hemorrhages, wicked witches, aliens and that rascally wheat protein known as “gluten”. The second entry in this revolutionary treatise on the pitfalls of having a brain injury and not blogging for extended periods, “HOW TO MAKE A BLOMELET, p. II: THE YOLK OF IS”, revealed Jarrett’s struggle in these troubled (Trumpled?) times.

Given recent events (revents?), it has become necessary to hasten the preparations for the blomelet. Submitted for your approval, Internet, I present “The Yolk of To Be” and “The Scramble”.

THE YOLK OF TO BE (Prelude)

Listen, “The Yolk of To Be” was, until Monday last (for posterity, that’s Monday, August 27) a slimy, yellowish glob of delusional mucus teeming with best selling novels, screenplays, movie deals, breakfast cereals, orangutans, etc. Then, on the Monday mentioned previously, I interviewed for a position running an elementary school library. Like that, the xanthous sticky goo became a little less viscous (viscless?) and less murky for the hearty injection of reality associated with steady, gainful(ish) employment.

Because of my bid for regular work, I had to reassess my priorities.

  • How can I write the next best seller if I want to be a legendary librarian (legendarian? Libradary?)
  • How do I ascend to the lofty heights of a legendarian if I spend my mornings and weekends tutoring Chinese kids?
  • How will I tutor Chinese kids if I can’t stay awake?
  • How do I stay awake if I only sleep five or six hours a night?
  • How can I sleep five to six hours a night when my daughter is counting on me to build a Halloween costume from scratch?
  • How do I build a Halloween costume from scratch when I have to take my dog to potty?
  • How do I take my dog to potty when she loses her mind, convulsing with the excitement of a child on Christmas day, preventing me from getting the leash on her collar?

The only conclusion to be drawn is that all my problems originate from my spastic wiener dog mix.

If only it was that simple. No no, this is the labyrinthine gauntlet of…

… THE SCRAMBLE

In her immensely informative memoir My Stroke of Insight, Jill Bolte Taylor calls it “brain chatter”. Stephen Pressfield, in his manifesto in support of the artist, The War of Art, calls it “resistance”. I’ve chosen the name “scramble” because it fits with the “blomelet” theme.

You see, one cannot understand “The Scramble” without understanding “the Yolk of To Be”, but a complete understanding of “The Yolk of To Be” is a pre-requisite to grasping “The Scramble”. What’s more, to understand The Scramble (one can only understand how The Scramble works. By definition, the contents of The Scramble cannot be understood – when that happens it’s no longer called The Scramble), is to understand that you are hopelessly ensnared in a dense jungle where all you can talk about is “The Scramble” and eggs with yolks from various periods of your life.

That said, I will now cast off the shackles of The Scramble (Schramkles?) and provide a deeper understanding of… The Scramble *sigh*.

I digress.

Allow me to return to the topic of…

… THE YOLK OF TO BE (Fugue)

I didn’t plan this, but here is the definition of fugue as I use it here – “a contrapuntal composition in which a short melody or phrase (the subject) is introduced by one part and successively taken up by others and developed by interweaving the parts”. The use of the term “prelude” was the first term that popped into my head that indicated a starting point. Turns out, a prelude is but one component of the multifaceted fugue. I should mention that “fugue” also means “a state or period of loss of awareness of one’s identity, often coupled with flight from one’s usual environment, associated with certain forms of hysteria and epilepsy.”

I digress again (trigress?).

The point is, the more I try to enrich and fortify “The Yolk of To Be”, the more watered down it gets. Should I blog? Should I write a book? Should I work in a library? Should I open a few more tutoring slots this weekend? Should I spend this time working on the costume? To answer in the affirmative to any one option is to muster the ire of those that didn’t get chosen. As a result, whatever I do gets a shoddy rush job so I can get back to what I do best – worrying about what I’m not doing.

For instance, I’m now going to go beat myself up for all the things I missed while spinning this yarn before you. Of course, I’ll have to walk my dog first…

FIN

@JarrettLWilson

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