If one is trying to highlight the Roman emporer Nero’s insanity, the anecdote about him playing his fiddle while Rome burned is a good one. There are lots of others, but this is the one I remember. It came to mind today in particular. If ancient historians had not left ample evidence that Nero was a bubble off, I would say that he fiddled as Rome burned as a means of not freaking out.
Let me set the stage: I have a take-home Linguistics exam due Tuesday. I have part one of my Spanish final in class on Tuesday. Osteology’s final is Thursday, Death and Dying in a Cross-Cultural Perspective on Friday, and next Monday is part two of my Spanish final.
And what have I done today? I cleaned out my knitting bag, unraveled a stash blanket that’s been sitting on the needles for over a year, cleaned out my armoire, gathered some items to put in the charity drop bin at the library, dusted my room, and even cleared out some old magazines I haven’t touched in ages.
All while the proverbial Rome is up in flames around me. Thank goodness I don’t have a fiddle, because I’d probably find an entire symphony that I needed to practice right now.