Tag: schedules

Tempting Tuesday’s Theme Music

Misty and 25 degrees F. Graylight bangs in through the windows. Gray stillness enthralls the landscape.

The cold outside works with the moment to tempt my spirit to cozy up under my duvet and covers and just hang tight in that warm cocoon for just a little longer, perhaps until March. The mists rule beyond a few hundred feet, depriving me of any mountain views. As far as I know, the lip of the world’s end is just over on the next street.

This is Tuesday, December 13, 2022. Not much of a holiday vibe rings the air. Sure, there’s Christmas music on store speakers. Holiday music thrills the coffee house ambiance off and on through the hours. Stores have some holiday items on display but overall, it feels like the holiday launch was premature and already peaked. Now we’re just waiting for the finale and the curtain fall so we can applaud and go on to the next big thing. Perhaps this is only my sentiments. Not many people seem jolly. Anxious is more how I’d color them. Anxious and tired.

It’s going to be 46 F as a high today. Of course, these are the same weather geniuses telling me that it’s sunny out there. Maybe it’s same zip code, different worlds. Sunrise entered at 7:31 but it was already light throughout the house by then. It seems like daylight is already showing up earlier in the morning. The sun show will end shortly before dark.

Freedom is on my mind this morning. I often feel constrained. Most of this is my own doing as I set up schedules to write, eat, exercise, and relax. Cats (2) and wife (1) add to this constraint, by their needs and wants. So does house and car mischief and the business of residing in the U.S. So I chaff. Even so, I know others have it much, much worse. It’s a fascinating thing, a web of emotions, logic, and expectations. Not complaining, I protest, just stating it as I see it.

The Neurons noted my subject on their radar. Their response was adding “Freedom! ’90” by George Michaels to the morning mental music stream. The song is about freedom and reflects his feeling that he’d lost freedom because of his stardom. Cry me a sea, right? But many celebrities end up on Michaels’ path, lamenting what success has done to their privacy. It’s a tricky labyrinth to follow, but that’s seen in most endeavors attempted where success is found. Success pulls admiration and brings more pressure to succeed and be. It ends up like golden handcuffs.

Now, I knew this song when it came out in 1990. Heard it on the radio all the time. Knew of Michaels and his success. But I’d never seen the video associated with the song. Seeing it today, I read more about Michaels’ reflections and frustration with success and freedom.

I know, waa-ville. Okay, I accept that. Stay positive and test negative. I’m up for a cup of coffee now. The cats are with me. Not that they’ll be having coffee — I shudder to think of them hopped up on caffeine — I mean, woof — but they’ll accompany me as I leave the office, make the brew, etc.

Here’s the tune. Hope your Tuesday works out well. Cheers

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The Divorce & Money Dream

My wife and I divorced. We then went on a vacation together, where we stayed in a mid-range luxury condo. Her sisters were there, in adjoining places, along with their children. We were all younger than in RL by thirty years or so. My wife – B – and I had dinner and then attended a presentation on the environment and climate change in a huge, packed auditorium lit with golden chandeliers. The speaker was a good-looking man with a gold tan who had bestselling books on the subjects. My wife met him after the presentation. They fell in love and married.

I went back to my condo. My wife came to visit. We could see into her new husband’s place, as it was next door. Large and modern, it featured realms of glass. Golden lights lit it inside. B told me that the home was enormous, taking up two entire floors of the luxury townhomes next door, and that her new husband was dying. He passed the next day, leaving everything to B. She announced that as part of that, she was receiving over $13,000 a month in royalties.

I was happy for her but startled by that amount. We’d been there for almost a week and I needed to leave soon. I didn’t have reservations to fly out but had a day and a half left before I needed to get back so I decided not to make reservations yet. I was very busy at that point. The condo had become a little cluttered with piles of coins. My nieces and nephews began collecting them and taking them to my sisters-in-law and wife, who kneeled on the carpet divided the piles of coins among themselves. This didn’t worry or bother me because I’d discovered large caches of cash which belonged to me. I was happy for them to take the coins, but every time I turned around, I discovered another pile of coins.

Then, oh no, I was late for leaving and I hadn’t made a reservation! I chastised myself, thinking if I had made reservations, I wouldn’t be late because I would have had more structure. I succeed more with structure.

A man came by and informed me that I needed to leave, and that if I didn’t I would be fined. I laughed at the threat and noted that I had cash on hand and my ex was receiving $13,000 a month in royalties. The man left. I told the rest of my party that I needed to leave and would be departing shortly. My ex-wife said something back about the need to take care of her new inheritance. She was to go into her ‘new place’ to inventory its contents. I asked her about the hold up, and she said, “There’s a lot of places,” and held up keys. One key ring with keys were hanging on another key ring of keys. “He has places all over town. And you should see the cars.”

Dream end

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Call It Saturday

Today feels like Saturday.

So did yesterday, and the day before. I suspect that tomorrow will also feel like Saturday.

Lot of reasons exist for my feelings about the days of the week. One, I’m a writer. I write every day. I retired from outside employment a few years ago. My days of the week stopped being labeled work days and non-work days.

Two, I stream, and watch little broadcast television. I’ve been streaming for ten years, and cut the cable nine years ago. That means that I’m not looking at any guides or schedules to see what’s on television, which was always guided by the day of the week. For example, I don’t think, “If this is Thursday, then a new episode of X will be on.” I wait until all episodes are out and then I start streaming them on my schedule when they’re available. When they’re out depends on a date, not a day of the week.

Three, COVID-19, of course. The pandemic and the actions being taken to flatten the curve has dramatically affected social activities. Hence, we’re no longer going out dancing at the lake on Saturday night or heading for beer on Wednesday night, erasing another reason for tracking what day it is.

Four, it feels like Saturday because of my conditioning. Back when I did work, Saturdays were days for doing errands and chores. It was also a day for sleeping in a bit. No need to leap out of bed, do some quick exercises, eat, shower, dress, jump into the car and hurry to work on Saturday. I could catch another twenty minutes.

Everyday in COVID-19 land is like that now. There are chores and writing, but no errands. I can sleep in, if the cats agree.

The cats have never worried about the day of the week. To them, it’s always Caturday.

I get what they mean, now.

 

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