Nothing to Say

Well . . . that's probably not really true.

I am sure, if I wanted, I could find more to say. Just the other day I was formulating a response to Sven's post about havin' the blues. I was going to acknowledge that I know where he's coming from, but then I was going to make some sort of life-affirming pledge to be more upbeat and positive at work, to not let the workload get me down, to do my best every day and try to sleep soundly with the knowledge that I am doing what I can and if more is needed it is unreasonable, inhuman, and I shouldn't have to make that choice.

But that isn't very affirming, now is it?

Maybe it's because I also identify with Sven's reference to the Sufi whirlers. There have been days in which I feel that I am swirling around in my cube or twirling from one meeting to the next, from one task to the next, from one fire to the next, tamping down flameups and turning around to notice another one that has been building for a few days unbeknownst to me (and there is so much flammable paper surrounding my desk!).

But that wouldn't be very positive, now would it?

Possibly I am simply tired, since I left work around five, immediately drove to local High School #3 for Sarah's elementary school picnic (which was moved indoors due to the rain of recent days . . . naturally this evening was beautiful). We grabbed some potluck food and sandwiches, monitored the consumption of a great many desert choices, and listened to a bit of lite jazz patter/chatter.

Then I was off again--this time taking the girls to the Rec center for Sarah's swimming lesson. (Lynda headed home to begin solving Work Crisis #17.) Sarah worked on her swimming strokes while I watched Grace play on the playground equipment, which was conveniently located in the spacious dome-shaped interior of the Rec center vestibule, next to big windows overlooking the pool. So I watched Grace play with my right eye and watched Sarah swim with my left eye, occasionally sparing both eyes for the pretty late September sunset through the clerestory windows of the Rec center entrance.

Once home I began checking the bundles of pages that I had brought home to finish this evening. Both Lynda and I paused to watch one episode of Veronica Marsseason two, and then we retreated to our corners/computers to keep working. I resolved the issues that I wanted to handle tonight and now I'm wrapping up my evening with a quick blog entry.

(Maybe I'll see if there's something mindless on TV to scrub my brain clean before collapsing in the bed.)