Sunday

Aug 5, 2001

lazy

We never stay in bed until ten. But we almost did. Just shy. The air was steamy when I got the papers. We stayed up too late, Chalow. No walkies. Sorry. She doesn't seem disappointed.

I had been dreaming and dreaming. I was trying to read e-mails about changes at work and my eyes kept going blurry. "Is it a hint that they will be laid off?" someone asks. I pick up all my gear (it's a laptop) and try to move somewhere else to work where the light is better. Then I pick up a printer by accident.

Then I'm going along through a bunch of people's houses. apparently uninvited, and one is Karen Kuykendall's. She welcomes me even though, like I say, I seem to be just walking into people's houses. She has a big media room in the round. That makes no sense, of course, for a media room. But it makes sense for Karen. She puts her arm around me and gives me some advice. But I've rocketed to another dream pocket where I'm washing my hair in a hotel room. Someone else's hotel room. Their gear is all around. I have to finish and sneak out before they notice me. Are these my glasses? Other people's glasses are around, too. As I leave someone is delivering drinks. "Come right in," I say, perhaps too loudly.

Forrest has a letter to the editor in today's New York Times. We used to have a letter to the editor competition in this family. But he trounced me long ago and I gave up. But I won the journaling contest! Well, that was never really a contest. And besides, he's written the most popular piece on our site...the Whitman essay.

What to make of a day almost lost to sleeping?

What did I do? Cleaned off the top of the refrigerator. Cleaned out an old briefcase in my closet. Learned a little Dreamweaver. Sent e-mail to my friend in Cape Town. Sorted some pictures.

The only time I ventured out of the house was to go to Precision Camera and get some more archival boxes and sleeves for the picture collection. FFP did some grocery shopping. I made and ate tuna salad. Snacked on a few other things like cheese and cereal. FFP made and ate a green salad and later a chicken breast sandwich.

At one point in the afternoon, well before dusk, FFP calls out and I go to the back door and see a Mom raccoon and three teenagers parading across the yard from the pond. I guess there's no other water. They must be desperate to be out in the daylight.

Some buddies stopped by. They watched the end of Six Feet Under and then we showed them the tape of Sex in the City and the beginning of Six Feet Under. They brought some wine and I had a couple of glasses with them. Just to be sociable.

The day feels kind of wasted. Mom called and mentioned she hadn't heard from me all weekend. It's true. I've been a vegetable. She seemed to be having trouble remembering how to get her e-mail. But she accidentally 'pushed the right button' she says. They've had a good weekend. Had people over for games. Had lunch out after church. Good for them.

And what have I accomplished? Not much. But the top of the frig is a little cleaner. (It had been a while. We found coupons and receipts from 1993 and even a disposible camera with a few shots taken that said 'develop before 1/93'.) I've learned a little about cascading style sheets. I've read the paper.

urban adventure in a cooler, more energetic time

painting created from a bad urban adventuring shot

JUST TYPING

It's gloomy to see raccoons in the afternoon.

No attempt was made to clean the front (or sides) of the frig....