A long Monday with ambiguous weather. It started with a bright strong sun, and now clouds are hanging low. The air feels sticky, thick as a soup. I struggle to walk to my table, already feeling burdened by the pile of reading on legal technicalities of carbon trades. My backpack hits the floor as I come to sit on the chair, sounds like a big rock just fell off. The waitress approaches me and slides a folded paper onto my table, "Someone left this note for you." And she waltzes back to behind the bar after a quick smile.
It is a note, a handwritten note. And it reads:
"Came in here earlier, you weren't around. Here's a question from the book I'm reading to ponder: 'How can you have meaning if you don't have self awareness?'
Also, look up 'palmate' for your botanical glossary. Write me a reply and leave it to Lily, I have a feeling we might keep missing each other this week."
- Penguin
By the book he is reading, he must mean The Moon is a Harsh Mistress. And by Lily he must mean the waitress who just gave me the note. I turn the paper over and write on the back of it,
"Right now my brain is too fried to ponder over meaning. Current mood: Like a tumbleweed skittering across the dusty road to nowhere. Shall I summon one of the lokapalas? What's up with your schedule?"
- GayaI look up palmate.
Palmate
adjective
1. BOTANY
(of a leaf) having several lobes (typically 5–7) whose midribs all radiate from one point.
2. ZOOLOGY
(of an antler) in which the angles between the tines are partly filled in to form a broad flat surface, as in fallow deer and moose.
That reminded me to maple trees, they have palmate leaves.
I can't wait for Tuesday.
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