The Visible Woman...May 6, 2003

Today was a day when I thought I'd make great strides in cleaning my office and discarding old newspapers. But, today was not that day. What I'm thinking is that if I can discard more than arrives each day, I can move in a positive direction. Today wasn't a day when that worked, though.

Your stuff stands in your way. Keeps you from soaring.

That's what you think when you look at a cluttered closet or a stack of newspapers mimicking the Tower of Pisa on the floor. That's what you think when you see the knot of communication and electrical cords splaying across your desk, mingled with dust bunnies.

However. What keeps you going is clean socks and yet another clean shirt. Something to read and feed the mind. And a computer to let you easily write. Express yourself and throw it on the Internet. Communicate with e-mails. Write that book. If we are moments without our 'connection' we find it irritating and disconcerting.

Your possessions are essential to modern life. Even prints and paintings. We don't expect to look at a blank wall.

But. They get out of control. Useless things hide the needed one. And it takes time to sort, consider, file. It even takes time to discard. Garbage? Recycle? Thrift Store? Sell it? Find a buyer.

But surely if you could control your stuff then you could control yourself. And soar. Right?

a little past reflection "quote. " someone, somewhere	output must exceed input Today was a day when I thought I'd make great strides in cleaning my office and discarding old newspapers. But, today was not that day. What I'm thinking is that if I can discard more than arrives each day, I can move in a positive direction. Today wasn't a day when that worked, though. Your stuff stands in your way. Keeps you from soaring. That's what you think when you look at a cluttered closet or a stack of newspapers mimicking the Tower of Pisa on the floor. That's what you think when you see the knot of communication and electrical cords splaying across your desk, mingled with dust bunnies. However. What keeps you going is clean socks and yet another clean shirt. Something to read and feed the mind. And a computer to let you easily write. Express yourself and throw it on the Internet. Communicate with e-mails. Write that book. If we are moments without our 'connection' we find it irritating and disconcerting. Your possessions are essential to modern life. Even prints and paintings. We don't expect to look at a blank wall. But. They get out of control. Useless things hide the needed one. And it takes time to sort, consider, file. It even takes time to discard. Garbage? Recycle? Thrift Store? Sell it? Find a buyer. But surely if you could control your stuff then you could control yourself. And soar. Right?
JUST TYPING Surrounded by things Right there Underneath something A thing forgotten A delight Or an embarrasment. We spend. So much time. Looking for our stuff. Our props. That we need. Until the end.
		Food Diary. Couple of bowls of salad with olives and nofat dressing and cheese and broccoli and carrots and onions and a little tomato. (Spinach and letuuce.) Salmon seared in olive oil with ginger-lime sauce, tortilla soup from Cooper's with tortilla chips and cheese, canned spinach. Wine. Several glasses of wine. Another glass of wine. Some cheese before bed. And water.
		6:10 wakeup 7:10 Get up (why don't I get up when I wake up?). Get coffee, glance at papers, check obits. 7:30 Get in front of my computer. Email some people about sheduling social things. Exchange e-mail with CPA about building. Work on journal. 9:05 Still corresponding with CPA and FFP on building. 9:20 Finish proofing yesterday's journal, put it up. Dawdle over looking up words, looking at WEB sites including the one for our club. 10:05 I hear yard men arrive. Discuss with FFP whether we need them to do more than mow and edge. Surfing web, e-mailing about some social stuff, bookkeeper here, go say 'hi.' Start cleaning up the papers scattered around the floor. Answer e-mail. 11:10 Get out stuff for a salad lunch for myself, Gayle and FFP. Eat, talking to them. Clean up. Work on reservations for a trip to San Francisco for us this summer. 1:30 Maid is here. Work on a WEB site for FFP. Talk to Dad. He feels better. Do a little cleanup around here, tossed a few papers. 3:20 Print stuff for FFP. Call Time Warner about billing problem. 4:35 Go to gym, first stopping to talk to FFP about work for him. 4:50 Arrive at club. 5:52 Leave club. 6:05 Home. Correct project for FFP. Help make dinner, eat while watching Simpsons and Millionaire. 7:35 Work at computer, nothing on TV, flipping anyway, Clerks,. 9PM Decide to go read in my chair and finish some wine. I don't get to bed until after midnight and then I can't sleep except when I try to read my book.

		Reading. Finished American Appetite, The Coming of Age of a Cuisine by Leslie Brenner. The woman managed to write a book over 300 pages with about fifty pages of good material, about twenty pages of self-serving memoir and she just repeated herself until she was finished. Unlike many things I've gotten on the remainder table...this deserved to be there. It is out of print. She mentions other people's books that are worth reading. I should have been reading them! Why am I obssessed to finish a book if I begin it? Silly.
		Well, I'm only writing the journal. And I'm struggling with the format, too. It might be working for me or it might be. The format I mean. Or it might be driving me to stop the journal and really try writing.
		Fifty minutes on bike and that's it.
		My knee hurts a tiny bit. Physically I'm fine. Really. But my mood isn't great but not horrible.

Tuesday, May 6, 2003

A Journal from Austin, Texas. A Project of LBFFP Stealth Publishing.