Friday at last. Even if I didn't have a calendar I'd know what day of the week this was. Fridays are always insane because our clientele seem incapable of planning ahead. I've been slammed all day with phonecalls from high tech geeks wanting to go to the InterOp conference in Vegas on Monday. They are, as usual, quite surprised to discover the flights are already sold out. I mean, we're talking about perhaps 20 flights a day to Vegas from here, and not all of it is jet service. Eh, well, I worked my usual set of miracles and managed not to miss my train. I was quite anxious to be on it because I had a large, unwieldy package which I couldn't open until I got home. Gus Mueller finally sent me the painting I offered to buy last August. Yay! I am the proud owner of The Pizza Bomb Crisis (as described in his Art Directory). I'm going to scout out a frame for it this weekend.
If I have time, that is. I've felt a change in my life recently. I may have mentioned this. At times I feel like a river. For eight years in Tennessee I was cut off from the main river and forced through a narrow channel where the only choice was to go forward in a slow, weak current. Now I'm reunited with the larger stream and thus the endless variants, eddies and rills and sudden whirlpools, of other lives are now interacting with mine. Witness the reappearances of online friends such as Derceto and fRiNgE and Spatch, or the oddity of email from acquaintences previously incapable of writing to me even though my email address hasn't changed. Everywhere I go, I see people I know and not just from my own current social group. This morning, on the train up to the city, I looked across the aisle at the gentleman seated there and realized it was David Zink, beloved of Ceej. I recognised him from the photos on her journal pages. After work on Tuesday I had dinner with someone I'd never met before but knew quite well from online. On the way to meet her I ran into acquaintences from my previous life as a Macy's employee. After dinner, we had a great time drinking Cosmopolitans in the Starlite Lounge on top of the Sir Francis Drake, a place I used to go to with my best friend Denise Rehse back when we worked downtown and knew all the best places for free hors d'oeuvres and cheap Happy Hour drinks.
My life feels rich with events and people again, and yet I still have enough time to myself. I have a pervasive sense of balance that can't be totally skewed in spite of family troubles. Life is really very good. Weird, but good.
