Things Coming To Mind While Driving

I’ve had four consecutive days of insomnia, which was barely controlled by taking cold medicine even if I don’t have a cold. Knock on the wood. I will make sure I don’t have cold or flu this coming winter since any cold symptom is a suspect for the more serious COVID-19. It’s ten hours ago I took NyQuil, but still I feel a little weird when driving. I have to go buy some Melatonin today to help me sleep. Relying on Nyquil is ridiculous.

Amazon is building another hub on Route 27, right opposite to the one they already have. It’s a huge block of concrete stretching for half a mile. An exaggeration, really. However it feels like half a mile. Windows so strangely small that it makes one wonder why the windows have to be there at all. I’d thought the chronically chaotic traffic situation on Route 27 would be wracked by Amazon trucks, but that didn’t happen. Hardly any Amazon truck is visible in Edison. How strange. However every day around the time of 9AM and 5PM, there will be a cue of cars in and out of the Amazon campus. That’s it. So traffic is not too bad. Or probably Route 27 is already so bad that even if it is worse, you don’t feel it to be worse. Anyway, the company must have done some clever tricks to keep the traffic situation under control.

I didn’t know Edison Township is named after the famous Thomas Edison for the first two years I lived here. I had imagined or mistakenly thought that scientists or engineers like Edison would live in New York or Chicago. Or if he chose to live in New Jersey at all, he would live in Princeton Township, close to Princeton University. Anyway, I am totally wrong. He chose Menlo Park, a northeastern part of Edison Township, away from the bustle of New York City, away from the academic atmosphere of Princeton. Probably because the real estate price at the time is too high in Princeton and in New York. Edison, while still struggling to test different filaments for his first light bulb, only had enough money to buy a ranch in Menlo Park.

I don’t understand why ideas, mostly bad ideas but still ideas nonetheless, would choose to come to my mind while I am driving. Don’t they know that I can’t write it down or record it while driving? Some have ideas when sleeping–Coleridge for one, Wang Wei for another. Some while drinking. Li Bai for one and a lot of others, like Byron. How frustrating things disappear as if they have never appeared the moment when you stop somewhere and have a pen ready to write down. You find that you have nothing to write down. A blank in your mind which makes you wonder if you have Alzheimer’s or amnesia.

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