Colin sprawled out on the hammock as best as he knew how, given it was the first time this year relaxing in a hammock.
His wife Trina brought out a glass of iced tea with a lemon hanging from the top.
“Oh, thanks, Sweetie,” Colin said. “You’re the best.”
“Thanks. What’re you up to?”
“Just thinking.”
“About what,” she asked.
“Thinking.”
“So you’re thinking about thinking?”
Colin said, “Mm hmm. That’s the beauty of a day off. You can think about anything you want, and as a tenured Philosophy professor, mine happens to be thinking.”
He took a sip of the iced tea. “So, yeah, I’m thinking about thinking.”
“I’m not even sure I understand what that means. Don’t you have some goal with this thinking, like ideas or specific projects you are thinking through?”
“Nope, not really,” said Colin. “You see with thinking, you need a hierarchy and structure. No hierarchy or structure, it all becomes just meaningless drivel. Like, I dunno, clouds floating through the air or something.”
“So, you mean you don’t brainstorm at all on anything?”
“Bite your tongue, young lady. Brainstorming, pfft. You need focus, m’dear, focus. Brainstorming is for people who want to go somewhere and get things done. Thinking about thinking on the other hand is for intellectuals and geniuses.”
Trina said, “Ok, Genius. I think that all this thinking about thinking isn’t thinking at all, but just your way of telling me you want to be left alone for a few hours, am I right in thinking about thinking this way?”
“Now, you’re thinking straight. Oh, could you please turn down the sun just a little when you leave the yard? Thanks!”
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