I’ve washed my watch twice in the past three weeks, and it keeps on ticking, though I think the condensation is going to finish it. I put it in a box of rice, in the hopes that would absorb some of the moisture, so there was a small leather strap hanging out of the New Handy Pour Spout (TM) in my Uncle Ben’s.
I was telling this to Maryann today, and she thought it was an old wives’ tale of sorts. “Wash your watch twice, put it in rice. Watch your watch thrice, this is why we can’t have nice things.”
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I’m at the Baltimore airport, waiting to catch a delayed flight to Boston to see my brother. I was just poured the largest glass of wine of my life, for grand total of $7.41. When I sat down, the waitress hollered, “Kitchen’s closed!” “That’s OK, I only want a drink,” I told her. She immediately lightened up and brought me this generous pour. When she walked back, she complimented the man behind me on finishing so much of his salad, and waved her hands around a lot, calling us both “love” and “darling.” I think she’s drunk. I’ll take it.
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I was just trying to think what to put in this next space when she came back and said, “Wow, look at you go!” as I typed. Yes. Look at me go. Hell, I’ll take that, too.
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I was on TV last night, a taped segment that was promotion for my job. I was thrilled about it ahead of time, but so disappointed to see the result in full, moving picture. My eyes dart everywhere — no one told me where to look! — and I do not smile in the entirety of 10 minutes. Why am I so serious? 30 years old, and so damn serious. Maybe this is what happens on stage sets. Maybe it’s me. It was really, really hard to watch.
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Work. It is a delight to like my job. What a revelation.
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I’ve been nesting a fair amount at home and slowly upgrading some of the things about my apartment that had been bothering me, with the idea in mind that Myke and I will be sharing these things sometime in the near future. I bought a very cool midcentury slatted coffee table, a warm cherry-wood end table with a tray on top, some new kitchen chairs that actually match, and a new TV stand. Some of them are long-time keepers and others are not. And that’s how I realized it must work. You make your picks, you pick your battles, you cut your losses, you invest in the nice stuff. Does that make any sense? It’s so hard to think in here.
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When I said on Facebook today that I was headed to Boston, one of my aunts asked if I ever sit still. I said that sitting still makes me antsy. When I do sit still, and let the stillness take over, sometimes I think I’ll never get up.
