bunt sign

Monday, January 6, 2003

What a difference in the turning of a day. It still looked like spring outside, but only from the inside. Once I got out in the air and was walking to the post office, I was met with a breeze that whipped my clothes and pierced my skin. I had to hang on tightly to the mail or it would have been all over Sebastopol Road.

My personal situation was a parallel one. I might have looked the same as yesterday, to a disinterested (or, more likely, uninterested) observer, but I had chills most of the day that the weather couldn't explain. And I spent about half of the morning and a good deal of the afternoon in the bathroom. I could go on and on, but I actually felt much better by this evening.

It helped that I took a nap. Almost took a nap. I was settling down nicely, and the bad juices were flowing out of me, when the phone ran. It's the only time I talked to the Boss all day, which is a mercy in itself, but he asked me if I could type one more draft. "I can't leave until I get this done," he said, meaning that he wouldn't leave until I got it done.

So I slapped my face and splashed it with cold water and did my duty. I don't know what was wrong, but I'm glad this Monday is over, more even than most.

On the other hand, I feel better tonight than I did by the time I went to bed last night, in spite of what a good day I thought I had yesterday. I don't know why I had to go through a day like this, but if it gets me to a better place it was probably worth it. It was just another recovery day, except that this time I didn't know what I was recovering from.

I do have a theory. I impertinently and imprudently failed to make any resolutions for the new year, and I'm now paying the price. I ate way too much over the weekend, and too much of what I ate shouldn't even be in the house. The good news is that I could hardly eat anything at all today, and that makes it the first day of the rest of the year. No more feeding frenzy. Time to get healthy again.

Not that last year's resolutions had any effect at all by, say, the second week in January. By February they were forgotten, and when I checked them again at the end of December, they were a joke. Not a very funny one at that. They were all about being better organized in the office and managing my time better.

I'm not making any promises to myself today, beyond not eating myself to death. But let this be a reminder that I can always find ways to improve myself, without having to dig deeply at all. If I forget again, don't hesitate to remind me.

looking south from the backyard

The buzzards were flying low around my house this weekend.

Naturally, with so much downtime today, I have twice as much work to do tomorrow. That could work to my benefit, though. I won't have much time to think about eating if I'm trying to catch up. And there's no question I'm far enough behind that I could work all day every day for a month before I get caught up. Not that I would, of course. Work that hard. Ever.

previousbunt signemailnext


For the second time in about two weeks I watched a production of "Fidelio" tonight. That's Beethoven's only opera, in case (like me) you didn't know it already. I think one of the keys to enjoying opera (and I'm very new to it) is to see it enough times that the story makes sense without the subtitles. Then you can let the music sink in. You have to enjoy the music in the first place, of course, or why bother?

The DVD I watched tonight was a production from the Royal Opera House, and it was technically superior to the one I taped from the Met off PBS last month. It was also more obviously directed for TV, with more close-ups and less ponderous sets. I've written about how television is different from movies. Well, it's also different from opera.

Recent recommendations can always be found on the links page.

One year ago: Punished
"Maybe there are other people out there who don't talk when they're alone, but it seems a little weird to me."

Subscribe to the notify list to be advised when this site is updated.

Way down here you need a reason to move
Feel a fool running your stateside games