Today is a long meandering day. Thursdays linger so long. It’s so strange how time can stop while you’re at work and then just chug on like a barreling train when you’re not.
Just trying to find some stability in this new world I’ve created. Some routines, traditions, relaxations.
Lately, books call to me. Books, books and more books. Fitting, since I’m interning at a book-publishing company filled with the types of books I like to read & write. Books I’d like to read and write but am not reading and writing.
My life instead has fallen into the hands of Mystery novel writer Janet Evanovich. My life waits on hold as I count the minutes until I can go pick up a copy of To the Nines, the next book in her hilarious rote series about Stephanie Plum, a completely incompetent bounty hunter, wooed at times by two separate men, one of which she loves, one of which she lusts after…endlessly…story after story, and of course, each book ends with a teaser to reel you into the next book. But they all start with enough info that you can pick up any book in the series and be clued in, or you can read them in order, which I prefer.
Of course, being a bestseller, it follows certain uniformities, but I can deal with that. Sometimes I get tired of “literature”. Sometimes I just want brain muck. Some way to spend all this free time I have to ponder my existence.
Hell, it makes me wonder what I used to do for fun! Cooking? Cleaning? Doing the Laundry? All those things got done, but I wouldn’t exactly call them fun.
What did I used to do for fun!! I have drawn the most euphemistic blank.
Moving to a new location brings with it certain adjustments like where do I hike? Where should I wash my laundry? I actually have to take my laundry to a laundromat? Is it cool to walk around the block late at night? Where do I grocery shop? Eat? See movies?
I tend to go back to my old neighborhoods. Berkeley can be infamously expensive. Oakland and Emeryville less so. And I liked my old hiking trails up in the Oakland Hills, but Tilden park is alright as well. That’s where I’ve been going as of late. Except not enough. Because this morning my dog was going completely berserk. She hauled each of her toys out of her crate and took them to the yard to desecrate their very existence, whipping her head back and forth and pouncing, running like a jackrabbit with a wolf on it’s tail, squatting like a big clown in order to pounce suddenly. Nothing was free from her antics. Not gardening gloves. Not the used-to-be-a garden. And certainly not her squeaky stuffed toy frog.
I’m not doing her justice by being such a homebody; I don’t want to walk anywhere or go anywhere or drive anywhere cause gas is to expensive and I check the odometer every second I’m on the road lately.
Oh yes. And the fridge has been empty for weeks! Domestic? ME?