Wednesday, January 8, 2003

I work at it pretty steadily but I don't get it looking that good. Things are getting put away but the shelves in here are so full of things that some more serious consideration is needed. In the middle of this I start a 'curb side mall' out on the edge of the lawn by the street. I dump a phone, DVD player, a VCR, a keyboard, a mouse, a monitor and some other stuff on the curb. Some things work, some don't. Before 5:30, everything is gone except my makeshift 'FREE' sign. I put it up to 'sell' another day. ("Curb side mall...all one price...FREE!" is my motto.)

I am getting rid of stuff...I am! Really. I got rid of a few cubic feet of stuff there and have a few more cubic feet in my car for the thrift store. I know my office is a pig sty mess, but as soon as I get into the closets and drawers and files and clean them all out then I can get it straight. Being an 'inside out' cleaner usually means lots of visible mess waiting for the ultimate clean up. Of course, I'm not above hiding the mess in a pinch and, during my working days, I did it frequently.

Incredibly it is soon time for dinner. I cook up some chicken left over from last night's cooking with mushrooms and butter and wine and FFP makes a salad. I clean up, watch Millionaire, and read for a while. I have a snack of cheese then a soda. A Cherry Coke to be precise. With sugar. I don't drink anything tonight, though. The latest medical breakthrough is that you should drink a tiny bit every night. Rebellious, that's me, so I don't drink anything tonight. (The wine in the mushrooms lost its alcohol.) Alcohol is a drug anyway. I'm not going to take it like a drug, though. I don't like drugs. Caffeine is a drug, too. That I take like a drug. Every day. Repeat. One has to have some vices.

I read the paper a bit and watch A&E Biography (Nicholas Cage). They could borrow whole sections of these star bios from one to another without change. "Meanwhile, he was neglecting life at home and he and [fill in the blank] had drifted apart." "But tensions were building in a two-star household." I think that I watched a Harrison Ford one last night.

This retired thing is funny. I've mentioned to everyone that I have found time to change the amount that I exercise. I exercise about an hour a day. This has changed my weight and musculature slightly. I've found that domestic things (doing laundry, preparing food and cleaning up the kitchen, shopping for food) seem to balloon out and fill the time you have. These cleanup projects both here and at Dad's (mostly here) seem to take a long time to bear fruit. (Then, however, I open a neat cabinet or closet and fill a nice exhilaration.)

But, overall, I feel I'm displacing from the true vocation of my retirement. Maybe it's travel or writing. Maybe learning something new or something forgotten. Maybe it's making time to sit in a coffee shop and stare pensively at my laptop screen. [Note to self: must buy the laptop.] I felt that while working on the guest room cleaning. That I would clean and clean, displacing this true vocation, until there was no place to clean.

One thing I perhaps haven't made clear is that I am doing some things I dreamed about doing. I'm reading more. Even though the papers conquer me more than the other way around, I'm reading them more. I'm reading books. I've almost finished one Christmas present book (a collection of short stories) and read several others. I've been drifting through my Dorothy Parker: Complete Poems, too. (Also a Christmas present.) While the current The New Yorker doesn't always get read, I'm pouring over one almost a decade old. (What a delight!)

I'm paying attention to things more, taking my time. I've spent time looking at options for the New York trip, studying our financial position, the markets, our spending.

My 'to do' list keeps growing, though. For every accomplishment of a displacement (from what?) task, I think of another one to add.

I'm not saying any of this is a bad thing. I feel that people should feel busy and a little pressured even if they have absolutely no duties. Otherwise, one may fret, may get depressed. Even so, one may get depressed. SuRu called last night about maybe going to a movie. We couldn't muster the energy. I was already cooking. We knew FFP had a 8:30 meeting here, we'd seen the first movie she suggested (About Schmidt). We had something tomorrow night and the two after that. When FFP hung up, I felt a twinge that we didn't go to a movie, but it didn't last. As a kid I wanted to be everywhere at once to take advantage of every opportunity to do things. If things conflicted or I wasn't allowed to go somewhere, then I was upset. I never really feel that way any more. But sometimes deep inside a little light blinks that reminds me of that feeling. And, oddly, after a moment of discomfiture I enjoy it. I enjoy knowing how schedule conflicts (want to do this, should do this, also want to do that, will they leave without me) used to affect me and now can almost but not quite do.

I go to bed fairly early with a pile of pillows, my short stories and KUT on the radio. Then I read until it is late. But I set the alarm for six or so. I want to straighten up for FFP's meeting in a leisurely fashion in the morning.

window at Toy Joy

"Hofstadter's Law:
It always takes longer than you expect, even when you take Hofstadter's law into account."

It is not enough to be h

JUST TYPING
I need some hours.
There are only twenty-four.
I could sleep a little less.
Or be more efficient.
But whatever for?