Meandering Course
Spent some time this afternoon thinking about where I am and where I’m going. I guess it kinda goes hand and glove with updating the resume. I’ve got the stable income I drooled over when I was in solo practice, and paid for it by spending Sunday morning in the cube complying with other people’s deadlines. At least when I work on the weekend the iPod keeps me mellow. For some reason the phone in the cube doesn’t have a shut-up button. You know the button: the one that dumps the calls into voicemail so you can write reports or try to learn the software forced upon you. I don’t have that button. Best I can do is turn the volume down and ignore the damn thing. But today, with a some tunes and no phone, lots of work got done, even if it cost me a Sunday to get it off my desk.
Most blogs seem to be counting the nine more days until the voting, but here the focus is on the twelve until I’m on vacation. Pongo and Chuck flying the Nissantruck at warp speed away from the sprawl with no agenda, no deadlines and no moral compass. Just a search for empty beaches, greasy spoons and someone’s leg to hump. Our nine-day mission: to forget why we needed a nine-day mission. First star to the right and straight on ’til morning. Where’s Tink to keep us from growing up? How can we get through this without a little fairy? Lost boys are coming to mind, not because of the references to Pan, but because one of the probable ports-of-call is Santa Cruz, where the 1987 vampire pic was filmed.
Maybe I’ll just never be satisfied with where I’m at. Maybe Pongo has it right: enjoy the moment and sniff every bush as though it was the first time you’ve ever seen it. Feel free to growl as needed, because when you have big, brown, eyes those silly humans have short memories. Then again, he didn’t have to pay $2.69 a gallon for gasoline this morning.
