Some days

Some days you feel like you're buried under the universe, buried somewhere beyond recognition, understanding, merit, mutual feeling. 

These are transient feelings, most likely the result of some neurotransmitter saturation point and a cascading loop of neurons firing in a well-worn network giving expression to the thoughts and feelings that provide some kind of meaning for that neurochemical slurry. 

And I do this a lot. I feel the need to get didactic, teachy, preachy, a bore. Any time I face an adverse event I do what I armed myself to provide--an explanation. 

I've done a lot of boring explanation. More than anything it steps out of a conversation in ways that puts off others who just want me to react to an address, not give some encyclopedia entry for some tangential point in their current concern. My cross to bear is a specific kind of table or a matrix with 2 categories matched according to their axis to create different pairs. I know there's a word for that and for the life of me I cannot find a satisfactory one. And here I am, bearing that cross, futzing with vocab, in every pregnant moment, dying for significance.