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Saturday, September 2, 2000

Pacific Bell rocks. (There, that makes up for all the bad things I've said about them over the last few months.)

I was sleeping blissfully, dreaming one of those special kinds of dreams where you swear you'll remember every detail because it's all so vivid, when I heard a knock on my door. Immediately, everything about the dream, including the who and the what, was gone forever. I've been concentrating all day, trying to bring it back, because I think it would have been the stuff of my first novel. But alas, that novel will never be written. What a loss! And no one to blame but the phone guy.

But I was so thrilled to see him (especially when he told me that he had to work outside long enough for me to get showered and dressed) that all of the lost fame and recognition and acknowledgment (and money) seemed suddenly much less important than having a line out to the world. I was sure I'd be going through the long weekend without it.

He was here for over two hours, and he managed to do almost everything I asked him to. I think he even did it all correctly. Apparently the phone jack in the loft is a dummy jack with some odd wiring that had nothing to do with the phone company. I told him I'd just try to remember to bring my cordless phone along whenever I came up there.

This simple thing was enough to brighten my day beyond all proportion. I was set to worry about not having a phone, especially with the satellite dish installer coming first thing Tuesday morning. One of the requirements to buy pay-per-view programs is a line connected to the satellite receiver, and I'd forgotten to have the first phone guy install a jack near the TV.

Once again, the things that make me worry turn out to go my way. I don't know why Herb and Ida think I deserve all this good luck, especially when my mind borrows trouble at every opportunity. You'd think that someone who always looks for the dark cloud wouldn't be finding so many silver linings.

Using the occasional bursts of energy that came to me out of nowhere today, I made progress on organizing everything. I had to take frequent breathers, and I moved slowly at times, in deference to my aching muscles and joints. My arms still feel heavy and my legs are sore, but at least that proves I've been lifting all these boxes in a proper manner. My back is okay.

Despite all my physical shortcomings, I'm pleased with how well I've been able to keep working until I can see the shape my personal space will eventually take. It's like putting together a puzzle that has several possible solutions. It's a creative process, almost an art, like Michelangelo seeing the figure in the marble. In my case, I couldn't see the figure until I started chiseling.

Now the files and books and videos that I won't need at my fingertips are stored in the garage, in rows, labeled so that I can find things easily. Well, maybe not easily. But I've narrowed the focus enough that I can cut down the search time (assuming I know what I'm looking for). And there's still room for more, as I continue unpacking. And there's still room to put my car in the garage!

I like the openness of the studio too much to clutter it with things I can live without. That's the reason I've been more diligent than usual about discarding those items that aren't immediately necessary to either business or pleasure. Out of the hundreds of video tapes I've made over the years, about ninety percent of them now reside in the garage, and that's where they'll stay. Any that I need will be located and retrieved, one at a time.

Landlord Fred was back here this afternoon to connect the electrical outlets for my stove and refrigerator, so now I can stop using so many extension cords. He still has a few tasks before he can leave me alone, but this is becoming more and more a home. And I'm so happy to be here it's ridiculous. All of the hassles and headaches of moving have been worth it.

How could I have known I could be this much in love with a house? I know it's only been two days, but it's made a world of difference in my outlook on life. I just never knew it could be like this. I don't want to jinx it, but I have to say that I hope it lasts. I know that I'm not going to borrow trouble by trying to think of what could go sour.

To keep it all as sweet as it is now, I'll work as hard as I have to.

Here are the snails on the side of the garage, mentioned in yesterday's entry.

And here is more wildlife! This little lizard was scampering up and down the side of the house, right next to the front door, as I was hauling boxes back and forth this afternoon. He seems to like the little planter box on my walkway.

Lizards are good luck, right?

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