The Renaissance of the Livingroom

Today was the sun was hot. Actually physically hot. My laundry dried in a few hours when it normally takes a couple of days hot. And how did I spend this gloriously warm day? Dealing with networking issues. Trying desperately to fix things so that I don’t have to check e-mail in the bathroom anymore, so that I could have a conversation with a friend in a room that one should never have a conversation in. The great part, the glorious part, is that because of that effort I am now sitting on the couch online and writing e-mail comfortable and warm. After I got it sorted I went on a walk down to the beach and finally finished Captain Corelli’s Mandolin, the ending of which was funny and sweet and a bit too close to home for me to actually like. Then I came back and walked up into town. The thought was to sit in a café and read the next book and perhaps return the mandolin to it’s owners but I took too long getting out the door and wound up getting into town after they were closed so I picked up some fruit and some camembert instead. Tomorrow, if it’s as warm, I will wear flip flops down to the beach and see exactly how cold the water is.

It continually amazes me how different my work and home styles are. I am OCD organized at work down to lining up corners of paper on my desk and insanely disorganized at home. My room usually looks as though a bomb has gone off… a clothes bomb. I would feel bad but I ask you who can just put on clothes and leave for the day. One has to make sure they hang well together that colors and patterns work and this usually takes at least two shirts to get figured out. And then you’re running late for work and don’t have enough time to hang things back up again and after work I’m generally too tired to move… I mean really how can one expect anything else?

I am making progress on the whole next step thing. The thought of finding a job in the UK and moving things forward gets a little further in my mind now before everything completely shuts down and I go to that weird overwhelmed and distracted place where nothing makes sense and I can’t tie my own shoelace… or couldn’t if I had any that is. Fortunately zippers are easy to work even when brain dead. But now I have to buy tickets to Lisbon for a weekend and I’m finding it hard to do that. There’s planning and taxis and hotels to think of… and I hate those things.

At least I’m getting there though. Perhaps in a month or so I’ll be able to get things sorted out to the extent that I can find a job and move to London – I love London. I love the easy access to theater. I love the music and museums and all that stuff. I’m a good person to talk to and I am capable of being funny so I have a good set of friends but I’m not the type that men fall in love with and probably never will be and I’ve always known this. This means that I’ve never had the picket fence fantasy. And I could do really well living in a city on my own where I have access to every type of music and art that I could want and no one to not be in the mood to go to a play with me.