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Wednesday June 20, 2001
"Nature's clock ticks behind technology's facade. Try as we will to perfect society's gleaming latticework of metal and microfiber, we are hostage to our stubborn bodies, which still pulse to primeval rhythms." Daniel Schorr, "I'm Late, I'm Late..." article in special Forbes ASAP edition on Time, November 30, 1998
financial clout
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preaching and falling My work has turned into preaching, pitching, cajoling. I have a plan and I have the clout to implement it but I have to keep on convincing. I take my Civic to the Honda place. It's been a little over six months. But I'd only gone 4,000 miles. The guy says, "it's too soon for maintenance" (they recommend at 5,000 miles and I've only been 4,000) but I pointed out that it had been about six months. I do my car on time, not distance. Because I don't drive too much in spite of the trips to Houston. So that's done. One more errand. SuRu took me to work so we also took a late lunch, ate a Schlotzsky's and checked the mail at Mom's. I was hungry for lunch because I wasn't hungry last night. I got my new credit cards in the mail. Those I'd thought I'd lost but hadn't in the briefcase incident. I got a little miffed because in validating the Discover they TRY TO SELL YOU STUFF. Geez!! "Can I transfer some balances? Want some insurance?" I remember how thrilled I was with my first credit card. It had a $350 limit. I made $750/month. I had a savings account in the bank with aobut $1000 in it. They initially refused to give me a card, but my Aunt Mary worked at the bank and she intervened. Subsequently, she walked all the nieces and nephews first cards through for a while, I think. Now they are one more nuisance you have to manage. They know no limits. And you get another offer every day. And then you lose a wallet and, um, what WAS in that wallet? Work goes. A meeting is cancelled while I am talking to someone and accidentally missiing it. A phone meeting makes me laugh to myself at the ridiculous nature of life in this business. SuRu and I leave early to get my car. They no longer give free oil changes on cars they sold. They say they haven't done it in a long time. Gee, I thought they said they did it. Must have dreamed it. At home I feel weary and my mouth feels sore. This sore, tingly feeling on my tongue is constantly irritating me. It feels like something that will go away if I keep it clean, like an skin irritation. But it is spoiling my mood. So I have a glass of Jack Daniels and water. We watch Great Day in Harlem. And some TV show about writers in the 50's, I think. And the Great Day DVD has another little film on it called The Spitball Story about Diz and Cab Calloway. I love jazz and I love all these creative guys who can hum how some guy played and you get it. Late, I'm dozing when the phone rings and I find that my mom has fallen at my sister's house. Hit her head and blacked out and had a seizure. My sister is calling me. Speaking in the slowed voice of her own brain crises. [In the morning, faithful readers, sis calls again to say that they released her after stitching her up.] |
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