I’m savoring the final hours of the most productive four days at the home and home office I’ve had this year, maybe longer. Friday I was into the office at 5 a and was there most of the day. Saturday was spent mostly in the basement, straightening things, putting away things for the winter I’ve not touched in six years. And I didn’t get cold, and I didn’t get hungry or thirsty, and I didn’t miss Carlo Rossi’s ymmy gallon jug Burgundy for three of the four days.
It’s the longest stretch I’ve had to engage, in depth, tasks that have waited for my attention too long, and none of it will seem logical to someone who’s not a librarian or poet. I’ve caught up with past-due correspondence (not all, but most of it) enjoyed model airplane building in the workshop and lots of peace and quiet. I don’t need a radio on as I used to. A lot of what I need to “hear” seems to come from the outside through the inside, so to speak.
I even wrapped up the last Vinegar Hill Neighborhood Association newsletter I intend to produce. That took most of Sunday, and that’s okay. I like to write and lay out newsletters. I will not miss the obligation I’ve engaged for 10 of the 12 years the association has existed, but given the growing disenchantment with the leadership, even though no one wanted to take one step forward, I had to take one step back.
Tonight for dinner, about 8 p, I will have the last of the sliced Thanksgiving turkey on which I’ve dined for one of my two meals each day, the second can of candied yams with melted mini-marshmallows, and probably the last of the butter pecan ice cream. It’s okay, all that premium chow was for premium time. Monday I return to “normal programming” with Ramen noodles, packaged lunchmeat and probably more Burgundy from my friend Carlo. That’s okay. Pennies will matter again starting Monday, and proof positive will be the austerity-mode-adjusted thermostat and water heater. That’s okay. It’s life as it should be lived under my circumstances.
I’m trying to shake off my growing apathy to the world politic. Most of the news on the heels of a nation-wide process in which almost all of “my people” won (Franken came SOOOOO close.) is what’s GOING TO HAPPEN. YAAAAAAAAAWN. I want to be the right kind of citizen re the daily news conferences by Barack Obama, but honestly sports fans so much of it hits me as so much PREamble. Awaken moi when the AMBLE begins. I mean BRAVO the man’s (and the team’s) decisive foundation building, but he seems to be moving from leader to celebrity. Who does Barack Obama think he is, grabbing all the media time; Britney Spears? EEEEUW! <– I’m kidding with the Britney reference, but I’d be more impressed if I heard less about Barack so soon after the election. I ALMOST didn’t watch Meet the Press and This Week with George Stephanopoulus this week. Both programs had first class guests and astute questioning and commentaries, so I’m glad I tuned in. But I must admit, I read the Sunday State Journal-Register during the commercials. Hell, during the commercials, I could have read half of Tolstoy’s War and Peace!
Monday, good Lord willin’ and the creeks don’t rise, I will be back again at Rock City with reduced hours, and that will be okay for the first week of it. Then I’m going to have to find a real employer. Stay tuned muchachos y muchachas y mucha-cha-chas. The dank has only jezbegun..
Live long , , , , , , , and proper.