Well, I am trying to get started here today!
For some weird reason, I was just about to get out of bed at around 5am, when I decided to take mental inventory of the day ahead of me, and voila! — I was sound asleep for two and half more hours! WTF???
The glucosamine is finally beginning to work and I am starting to notice a bit of a positive difference in my legs. That same feeling, like: I hadn’t realized that things were changing and so now that there is the ease coming back into my joints, I am recalling how it feels to just move really freely. It does feel great, but I still went to bed last night feeling some pain in my legs. I think that disrupted my sleep — well, that and this weird habit I have now of being on Instagram at all hours. Anyway. I think that’s why I suddenly slept like a rock — the inflammation in my legs finally died down.
So I’m trying to do laundry here. Trying to get ready for my several hours of script work today with Peitor. I’d been hoping to get to answering some emails this morning, too, but I’m also feeling frustrated by the lack of productive time I am finding to spend on Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town.
Yesterday, I stared at the file, open in front of me on the desk top, for hours. Literally And only made about 3 changes to what was already there, and then came up with the name that P-Town had before the “accident.” (And that is: Sandover — in honor of James Merrill’s epic multi-volume poem from 1976-1980, The Changing Light at Sandover.)
(In my novel, so far I am only calling the accident: “the terrible accident at the factory.” I’m not sure yet, but I don’t think I’m ever going to say what the accident was or what they did at the factory because everything comes from Thug’s POV and he is an AI robot and only “knows” what people tell him.)
(I’m starting to see very clearly now that Thug Luckless is going to be another experimental novel. Which of course translates into “small press/no money.” But you know what? I just can’t go there anymore. I can’t worry about it. According to international legal resources, the book has already been pirated anyway, and it hasn’t even been written yet!!)
(And I’m not sure why all this stuff is in parentheses, but it is.)
Whatever. If money were the thing motivating me ever in my entire life — well. I don’t even have to explain what the rest of that sentence might look like. (i.e.: My life would look nothing at all like how I live.)
Last night, it occurred to me that my home-ownership priorities are just so strange. I’ve been here 2 years now and I don’t have a dishwasher yet — just a gaping space for it in the kitchen. Or central AC — although I’m not likely to ever get that because I have this love affair with open windows. I still haven’t put the door back on the linen closet in the upstairs hall (the door is out in the barn, so it’s not as if the door is just somewhere handy.) But the light at the top of the stairs went out last night so I replaced the bulb because I have a whole stockpile of energy efficient light bulbs. And then the battery in one of the smoke detectors went out and I got out of bed and replaced that because I have a plethora of batteries around here of various voltages.
I mean, I have so many batteries and light bulbs, and paper towels, and toilet paper and Kleenex. And a stockpile of filters for the vacuum cleaner. And I have just tons of cloth dish towels, even though I only always use the same one. And I have 17 thousand-million dishes, and glassware, and bar ware — including cocktail shakers and ice buckets and ice tongs, etc., that never get used. And I have so many bed linens in this place that you’d think I was running a dormitory (I even have linens for twin beds, which I don’t even own). And of course, the tidal wall of age-defying products from France bursting from the storage closets of both bathrooms…
Weird, right? I think that’s weird, anyway. Such an extreme amount of only certain things.
Including leaves. Even I was forced to sigh heavily and shake my head this morning, as I glanced outside my backdoor window and saw just the enormous pile of dead leaves that had blown into a massive heap outside my backdoor — where my neighbor’s privacy fence meets my yard. And try as they might, all those leaves cannot get up enough velocity to blow themselves up over that really tall fence and settle nicely into my neighbor’s yard.
I have no idea what to do about those leaves. Because I am definitely not raking them. But I can just see my lawn guy getting right back into his truck when he comes to cut the grass for the first time next month and sees something like that.
Or the gutters. We are not even going to talk about the gutters, although I am at least aware that I need to deal with my gutters.
What I really need, though, is someone to be the actual homeowner here so that I can just wear the title: Homeowner. And then just sit at my desk for hours on end crafting masterpieces of fiction that most people the world over will not understand. (Starting with my father.)
Okey-dokey!!! On that lofty note! I gotta scoot, gang. The morning is almost officially over. I need to get ready for Peitor. (Who is out there in West Hollywood right now, doing yoga and meditating to the sound of Tibetan bowls and all sorts of spiritual goodness type stuff.) (He’s even a vegan– he recently one-upped me on my vegetarianism.) So I’m gonna get crackin’ here.
Have a terrific Tuesday, wherever you are in the world!! (And while I was typing here, a little fruit fly landed in my coffee cup and had all the limp signs of being horribly drowned to death. But I scooped him out of the coffee with my fingertip, put him on the back of my hand, blew on him a little bit and then let him just dry out for awhile. And after several minutes, guess what? He came back to life, walked around on the back of my hand and then flew away! Tiny miracles everywhere, gang. You just gotta know where to look. And you’ve gotta make up your mind that you’re gonna see them when they happen!!)
So! I leave you with my listening-music from last evening!! Turn it up and just smile (or, you know, grab onto someone you’re super hot for & swing.) Have a great day. I love you guys. See ya!!