bunt sign

Thursday, January 3, 2002

When seven o'clock comes and I don't have any idea what I'm going to write about, I know I'll be up way too late unless I just get going. It doesn't do anybody any good if I just write about my day, when my day has started and ended with work and nothing out of the ordinary has happened to spark an entry. Still, here we are and there you go.

I'm doing the mindless part of getting ready for taxes and financial statements. I could do this while I'm half asleep, which is a very good thing. It's also a very good thing that I didn't resolve to get more sleep in the new year, because I'm way off that already. But what I'm doing now doesn't require much sharpness of mind. Mostly it's just sorting and organizing, printing out spreadsheets done in the early part of last year, and requesting information.

I need help from my co-workers, especially the ones with expense accounts, so that I know what category to put all those random charges in. If they stayed in a hotel, what job were they working at? And couldn't they have stayed in a cheaper hotel? That kind of thing. And I need information from suppliers, the people I've been paying all year, so I can get 1099s done on time. It's a whole lot easier if I still owe them money, because I can just withhold it until they give me what I want. Extortion it may be, but effective it is, young Jedi.

See? That's why I don't like to write about work, even when it takes up almost the whole day.

You'd think it would be harder to stay inside and work on the first really brilliant day after weeks upon months of nothing but rain rain rain. Well, as inviting as the sunshine beaming down on my yard (and slowly drying up the giant puddles) is, what it really means to me is that it's easier to work inside, with the blinds letting the sun stream in and the birds chattering away just outside the window.

If I have to be pounding the keyboard and spewing out spreadsheets anyway, at least let me do it on a sunny day. That's all I'm saying.

late afternoon

Looking out toward the street on a late afternoon.
The oaks are almost bare, but the eucalyptus is still leafy.

And that is all I'm saying. Obviously, I'm happy that the sun is out and the roads in my neighborhood are clear of standing water. Not only did I get to walk to the post office today, but I did it without wearing a jacket. As soon as the sun begins to set it gets cold again, but I can stand a few more of these warm days, especially with the weekend coming up. I have a Christmas tree to chop into small pieces for the trash man (or woman, I really don't know) to pick up and recycle into mulch, or whatever they make of dead pine trees.

Mostly, I'd just like to see the sun for a couple more days before the clouds settle in again. Every ray of light is a bit of inspiration to carry me through the darkness that's coming. It doesn't have to stay sunny all weekend — I'll take whatever I can get — but it would be a fine and friendly change of pace, and I'd gladly believe in whatever miraculous force you could show me that made it happen.

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Still shaky from the landing.