Ch-ch-changes
I have a thousand meetings tomorrow, not the least stressful of which will be my performance review. But I asked for and will receive a comp day on Wednesday, so Angie says drinks are on her tomorrow night. On Wednesday, I plan to visit the Smithsonian Folklife Festival, which is part of my plan to enjoy the city I’m in instead of avoiding it like the plague.
I’m also making plans to take a two-week jaunt to the west coast in August to see Shan’s new home and to possibly escape to Seattle and L.A. This ain’t so bad. I will miss the hell outta her and Alex when they move, but it’s nice to know too that I always have a place to escape … a place to land if all falls to shit ’round here. And after that trip, Journal Con D.C. is another glorious thing to look forward to. Hurrah! I feel vital again — something I haven’t felt in a long time. Not to disparage the life I had/have, but it’s great to be involved, to be planning and dreaming and anticipating something, anything. To not be dreading or simply just waiting.
I spent yesterday re-arranging my bedroom. It’s still a freakin’ disaster, thanks in part to my kitten who trashed the room last night, but I’m preparing for some new furniture and simply wasn’t happy just cleaning. Everything is a thousand times more difficult with carpal tunnel, so I didn’t quite accomplish as much as I had hoped. But I did spare some time for a hot date with my Jelly Osaki vibrator before “Six Feet Under,” and life is good again. For now. 🙂 I may be singing a different tune tomorrow, but the beauty of low expectations is that I don’t have too far to fall.
Everybody send warm, fuzzy thoughts over to Amy, who is traveling to see her sick grandmother in the Show Me State (also known as the state of Misery, where I visited two months ago for our corporate idiot convention). Amy has become a great friend to me during the past few weeks, and she needs all the good ju-ju we can all possibly muster up for her!
On iTunes: Winger, “Written in the Wind”