04/01 Direct Link
Iím back. I need a quiet place to think, to teach myself to dream out loud again. I look at what I wrote here and I realize that I have lost something. I donít know if the surgery and meds left a hole in my head, or if Iíve become mentally numb working a job that doesnít want me to really do what I do, or what has happened. The only way I can describe it is that it appears that Iíve lost the ability to experience wonder with the world, or at least, the ability to express my wonder.
04/02 Direct Link
I donít think Iíve actually lost the ability to experience wonder, but rather that Iíve lost a prime time for that daily experience now that Iím driving to work, rather than being on the train. Train time was time to just be - it provided a wonderful transition time: transitioning slowly and easily to being awake on the way to work, and decompressing after work on the ride home. Now, rush hour is really a rush, and I dislike it immensely. Or perhaps it was the act writing these one hundred words that made me take the time to wonder.
04/03 Direct Link
It was a loopy day - - no, I was loopy. What is it that sometimes makes us loopy, funny, off-kilter, and slightly insane when weíre sleep deprived? And why is it on other days when youíre very tired youíre just cranky and canít focus on anything? Is it a factor of total accumulated minutes of sleep? Or that that some level of REM was achieved? Does it matter if it was just a brief period of real sleep or a long night of interrupted sleep? Or is a factor of which side of the bed you got out of?
04/04 Direct Link
Todayís farewell to the only female colleague I socialize with was disturbingly easy. Have I become that accustomed to farewells in the last few years, or is it that we hadnít yet had enough time together in the trenches? Agreed - a few lunches and conversations does not stack up to years of working side by side. Or is it because I have my own hopes of leaving the environment myself, that Iím mentally distancing myself? Ah, with that thought, thereís the answer that Iíve been looking for since lunch: I never felt attached to the environment in the first place.
04/05 Direct Link
Today was Round Two at the Dream Job. There wasnít enough time to make my points or ask my questions, only enough time to answer their questions. Still, I think it went as well as I could reasonably hope for. There are moments when I question if Iím ready for or actually really want what this job will entail, or am I letting my ambition get in the way? There are no easy answers here: it will be jumping off a cliff, and either I will finally spread my wings and soar, or Iíll be in desperately over my head.
04/06 Direct Link
Turning over the interview in my mind, I still think I did very well Ė but now Iím struggling with the damned thank you notes. How to try and address the individual points of view and probable concerns while trying to sell, sell, sell, myself in such a short space? Especially for the panel participants, as I didnít get much of a chance to ask questions or make the points I wanted to emphasize. So, instead of the usual, Iím focusing on the executive level concerns, not the technical stuff, because the point of the job is to provide security leadership.
04/07 Direct Link
Family. Easter. Gatlinburg. Rae. Pigeon Forge. Berea. The campgrounds. The memories are a string of pearls, a holiday that is almost exclusively associated with Dadís side of the family. Who are all gone now. All gone. That is so sad. Christopher remains, but Iím afraid heís thrown his life away. I donít know what has happened to Lily Opal, but at this rate, sheíll be the only member of the next generation of the family. It has taken so long for Geoffrey and me, Iím afraid we have lost the chance at a family. Which is perhaps saddest of all.
04/08 Direct Link
What is it about stuffed animals that delights children (of all ages)? The mere idea of holding and playing with an animal that is too wild to be a pet? The plush fake fur? The miniature size? I dunno, but I really like Haimish McBunny, as heís been named, perhaps especially because heís a hand puppet. Or perhaps because he was a gift from Geoffrey? Or is it because he looks like heís wearing white eyeliner, like a certain cat? And Fionn did try to make friends with Haimish, gently touching noses with him in the early morning hours.
04/09 Direct Link
Happy Birthday, mom! Mom and my dadís maternal grandmother shared the same birthday. There were many such birthday confluences when I was growing up. There havenít been any that I can think in my adult life, except for that whole Irishman born on December 15th thing that haunted me for a while in my twenties; and the less said about that, the better. Although that period did introduce me to Pierce Turner, who will be back in the City next weekend. I havenít told Geoffrey; the Sunday night arrangements will be difficult although I do want to see the show.
04/10 Direct Link
It is really true: the more things change, the more they stay the same. I spoke with someone today whoís considering a move from WMG to join HFA, but it will be more a case of her going from the fire to the frying pan, I think. And there was something of a strange twist unveiled: Lou is now CIO. What the ????!! Mass confusion and delight at the same time. In the course of today I spoke to my former VP and my former CIO, as well as leaving a message for the current CIO. The circle remains unbroken.
04/11 Direct Link
Iím struggling to maintain the discipline with writing this on a daily basis. Iíve fallen behind and I donít like backfilling the entries, but I have to do it. I really do want to get back on track with the writing, and I may need to take the same approach as the Weight Watchers Ė struggle through, day by day, until it is more normal to do it than to not do it. Finding the moment of repose, when there is time and space to shut out the world and just be Ė let the thoughts flow Ė it is hard. Very hard.
04/12 Direct Link
This seems to be deteriorating into diary status, which is not what I want to do here. This is supposed to be about my inner life, not merely my chronology in the outer world. But that will require writing on a daily basis, as well as concentration and contemplation, which I find very hard to do late in the evening. I have yet not found a consistent time in which to write other than in the evening. I cannot seem to get up early during the week and Geoffrey will be unhappy if I get up early on the weekend.
04/13 Direct Link
Iíve spent a lot of time the last two days ripping out knitting which did not turn out to be the width or length intended. It seems a bit prophetic about the rest of my life. Iíve heard nothing from BNL yet and am once again best with doubt about the outcome. Columbia is advertising a position which has potential but is only a manager level Ė do I want to commute to the city, to the Upper West Side, for that? There are so few opportunities out there, I am beginning to seriously question the entire path forward from here.
04/14 Direct Link
Logging on to post words today, on the home page I saw a featured entry from a month ago that made me stop dead. Another returning member who was not going to share these words with others back in the real world. That the internal censors inevitably kicked in. Imagining that these words will eventually be discovered. Yes, thatís it exactly. Iíve already felt the temptation to tell Helene that Iím writing, but I cannot. If this is going to work, if Iím going to write about the inner life, not the chronology, these words need to remain quietly hidden.
04/15 Direct Link
A day of unrelenting grey and a lot of rain. April showers may bring May flowers but a weekend apart from Geoffrey is difficult no matter how I try to bribe myself. My rain is nowhere near the intensity or duration that was experienced elsewhere. I was ready for the real storm, a Noríeaster, but all I got was a bit of a good soak. It is probably very good for the area, there wasnít a lot of snow or rain over the winter. But this kind of drudging detail is not what I planned to write in this space.
04/16 Direct Link
There was an entry for this day, but I lost it. Trying to juggle between writing a few ideas at work and entering the full entry at home, I managed to lose the words. It is a failure of discipline and process. Iím not sure how to work the kinks out of the process. More discipline? An actual process? I donít know. Iím trying to stretch my day an hour or so, which is coming at night right now, hopefully to flip it to the AM soon, so that I can write with a cup of coffee in the morning.
04/17 Direct Link
I wonder what it would be like to have the continuous history here, from 2001 to now. As it is, I have one of the highest batch totals. What would I have said in the last three years? What could I have said about some of it? Would I have thought more deeply about the significant bits of my life, the important decisions, like the one to take the current job? Would I have been able to keep the brain processes and memory working better? Or is that decline merely a function of age, combined with the aftermath of surgery?
04/18 Direct Link
What am I afraid of? Not as much as I was afraid of when I was younger. Age has brought confidence if not wisdom. I fear: Failure in general, asking for a raise, hurting my back again, losing Geoffrey, being alone late in life, not losing the weight, trying to launch a new business, either yarn or bakery. And the typical fears we probably all share: terrorism, fire, death, poverty, losing my job, developing some terminal illness, Alzheimerís (although I donít think Grandpa had Alzheimerís). I donít know if not having children is exactly a fear, more likely a regret
04/19 Direct Link
In a cab on Madison Avenue I caught sight of some flowering tree actually moving beyond being in bud, it was flowering. I donít know what kind of tree, but it had little umbrellas of small white flowers. Living in the city, these things sneak up on you because there werenít enough green things around you on a daily basis, but this tree surprised me today, even though I donít live in the city any more and I am surrounded by living green. The city is just a bit warmer than the Island, so perhaps this weekend spring will flower.
04/20 Direct Link
On a beautiful spring day, I had to get out at lunch. And where do I go? The local yarn store that is closest to work. I told myself it was only to get ideas, to touch a few skeins of yarn Iíve been contemplating, but of course, I did buy yarn. Not a lot, but a pale blue linen that will be a classic summer neutral. My imagination is really fired in a yarn store, I see a yarn and I imagine the finished object. Same goes for reading a cookbook or reading certain blogs that have excellent photos.
04/21 Direct Link
I want the house. New construction in a traditional style by Hamptons builders Ė cedar shakes, moldings and trim and hardwood floors throughout. Spacious, gracious rooms and hallways reminiscent of Rye. Iím not sure about the location, but with proper landscaping and screening (bamboo, anyone?) it could work. The plot itself was fine, more than ĺ of an acre, some of it going all the way through to the street behind the house. That means no neighbors at the back Ė and there arenít many other immediate neighbors. Sitting on the front porch, we both felt as though the house was very right.
04/22 Direct Link
I canít get that house out of my head. I woke up at 3:30 this morning thinking about the kitchen Ė how to lay out the appliances in such an open kitchen. Nothing made sense. Of course, it was 3:30 in the morning. I worked over various options, such as a gas cook top with double wall ovens, moving the placement of the sink to allow better interaction with filling the dishwasher. There is enough space in that kitchen and with nothing fixed yet there must be an option that works, but I couldnít find the one that made me happy.
04/23 Direct Link
I wonder what it would be like to have the continuous history here, from 2001 to now. As it is, I have one of the highest batch totals. What would I have said in the last three years? What could I have said about some of it? Would I have thought more deeply about the significant bits of my life, the important decisions, like the one to take the current job? Would I have been able to keep the brain processes and memory working better? Or is that decline merely a function of age, combined with the aftermath of surgery?
04/24 Direct Link
Definitely a sick day and a mental health day. I woke up, determined I wasnít well, went back to sleep until nearly noon and woke up again with that disoriented, discombobulated feeling of having slept too late. I did a small amount of reading, a small amount of knitting, watched Gilmore Girls twice in one day, and generally felt like I was not able to keep up with the world in motion around me. Yes, I suppose I am a bit depressed Ė probably have been more or less depressed for a couple of months now. Limbo is a depressing state.
04/25 Direct Link
Gotta love trees with leaves Ė they just look naked without leaves. Driving home I nearly stopped in traffic as I realized that the trees actually had leaves, LEAVES, there was a canopy of green overhead. A few warm days and suddenly everything is popping. I considered it and I couldnít remember there being leaves on those trees when I was driving to work. Perhaps I wasnít awake, thatís a real possibility. However, I left the house with tulips in bud Ė and one in bloom when I got home. Now, if a few other things in my life would also blossom.
04/26 Direct Link
I don't know whether to be more upset over the delay/loss of dream job or over Geoffrey's reaction to my expression of that frustration, which was to suggest (threaten) that perhaps we should part ways. And later, when I tried to point out to him how his response was received, it went further astray. Yes, I'm frustrated by the unexpected delay when an outcome was promised, mostly because that prolongs our limbo. That doesn't mean I'm ready to give up on us. A little support from my partner would be nice Ė I'm the one who actually got the bad news.
04/27 Direct Link
Driving home in the grey not-really-raining afternoon, I gave up on Leonard Lopate and listened to Fred on XM instead. Whereby I was serenaded by Bauhaus, Specimen and New Order Ė all songs I really like, really groove to. And somehow, listening to these classics, I felt like the wind was being taken out of my sails. Was it the moment I realized I was doing more than 80 and I should slow down although I really just wanted to floor it? Or when I thought back to how long it has been since dancing at the Bank was Fridayís entertainment?
04/28 Direct Link
Digging in the dirt is good for the soul. I donít quite know why, although I suspect is it a modern thing Ė that my great-grandmother and other ancestors didnít feel that way when it was necessary for survival, not an optional entertainment or therapy. And it may only be good for my soul Ė for you it could be the most severe punishment. I will say that my body finds gardening rather demanding and punishing, hauling bags of wet mulch, crawling around on knees, stretching across delicate young plants, and especially when you get a small tree wedged under your skin.
04/29 Direct Link
Shopping for bicycles. Comfortable bikes for a pair of middle-aged, overweight couch potatoes. The first ride on a bike in twenty years was rather less steady that I would have hoped. It was twenty years ago this fall that I was cruising around Bonn on a bike at all hours, day or night, sober, drunk or otherwise, until I ripped my ankle ligament. A corner of my mind says that if I could bike from Bad Godesburg to the dorm after watching Koyaanisqatsi then, I should be able to master a trip to Floís now on The Townie from Elektra.
04/30 Direct Link
I had another one of those moments today, when the perfect riff, the moment of insight, occurred to me. And I was either on a plane or in the car, or somewhere else not immediately convenient to writing and the only thing I had anyway was the office laptop. I miss the voice recorder on my old Palm - it was perfect for capturing that kind of stuff anywhere, any time. So I lost the moment, and like so many other bits and pieces, it is gone and the harder I try to remember it, the further away it goes.