Monday

Aug 13, 2001

denouement Monday

Big letdown going back to work. And a weird day to be there besides. Déjà vu. Big time.

The day started out a bit fitfully anyway. Because FFP got up early and showered, dressed and left for the TV station to make sure a PR shot went OK for Fonda San Miguel.

Somehow it felt like a small pause, a time to ponder change. Like a decade and more contained nothing, like time had waited to knit something up. Not true, of course. Much has changed. Forever.

Several people left birthday cards and small presents and cookies and balloons in my office. The cleaning people lock the offices. One always wonders how other people get into the office to leave things. Until one realizes that all our keys are exactly the same.

Skipping right to dinner. I suggested 34th Street Cafe. We had a refreshing gazpacho, some Pinot. I had an 'oyster on chip' appetizer and FFP some enchiladas. We shared some. I read the Living Arts section in the New York Times and tried to work the puzzle. FFP read a book. And then home to the computers, TV, newpapers, etc. I opened the paper later and finished up the crossword right away. Don't be impressed. It's Monday. But it is always interesting when you get stuck and then later see it right away. Remember to walk away when working on a hard problem.

cork

"L'homme absurde est celui qui ne change jamais."

Auguste Barthélemy, Ma Justification

JUST TYPING

Have you ever tried to make a list of all the things you own? How tiresome and revealing it would be. Even if I give you leave to lump things together. "Five boxes of bendable, posable figures and Gumby memorabilia" instead of listing every. single. one. "Books" instead of enumerating all of them. (In our case, an estimated 3,000.) Even with that, a tiresome process. Since surely the Cow alarm clock and the Buzz Lightyear Room Guard would require separate acknowlegement. And those four letter openers. And each collection.

 

Meta Note:
I had the urge to pull the journal down or, at least, replace the splash page with a request that folks e-mail me to get the location. I think everyone with one of these things feels an exposure and is occasionally prone to this feeling. Many give in, sadly for the readers.