The one good thing about putting a dog down is not having to think anymore about putting the dog down. I really hate dread. So much so that I wake up many mornings and say to myself, what am I dreading today? This is crazy because there is almost nothing in my life that I dread now except putting my dog down and that’s done.
While swimming today I thought an exceptionally long time about this question: why are there 60 seconds in a minute, 60 minutes in an hour, and 24 hours in a day? Wouldn’t it make more sense to have 60 hours in a day? Where did the 24 come from? I thought about this for many laps doing the breaststroke because my goggles leaked when I swam the front crawl. Everytime I lifted my head up I’d see the clock and ask the question all over again.
I rehung my shingle yesterday. I realized I missed making money and I missed being really busy. So my consulting business is open again. Glenda Jackson playing King Lear on Broadway at the age of 80 after she retired as a member of Parliament in 2015 after she retired from acting in 1992 kind of hit me. So I asked myself: What’s your deal, girlie, that you are too precious to lay a few bricks and make a few bucks?
Physical work is weirdly satisfying. A group of us sat around a couple of folding tables this morning and rolled, taped, and labeled men’s underwear, t-shirts, hoodies, and sweatpants. These will be used to stock Street Angels’ bus when volunteers do homeless outreach. It’s nice to do stuff where no one is jockeying (get it, jockeying?) for position, who’s smarter or more accomplished than the other. It’s all about rolling, taping, and labeling. It felt like a quilting bee must have felt.
I am tired from this week. I don’t think that’s all bad. People are supposed to be tired on Friday.