My e-mail program seems to be hosed. Oddly, I am unconcerned. I can pick up the mail in two other places (phone and web), and besides, I’m starting to see problems like this as not really problems at all. Weekends are good for unplugging, and I intend to do so. I might even like it.
It occurred to me the other day that making a writer work on a computer with an internet connection is a little like making an alcoholic insurance agent move his office to a bar. Which reminds me, if you haven’t read Sweet Juniper’s latest post, you should. It’s not about writing or alcoholics, but it is about insurance. Sorta. It’s also funny.
Two cups of coffee, and I can sense it’s already going to be a short-attention-span kind of day. Sometimes I hit the finish line of the week like one of those rubber-legged marathoners, and today has one of those hit-or-miss to-do lists: Meeting, buy sanding sugar, clean house, make elaborate Christmas cookies. Sometimes Friday turns out productive against all odds, because I don’t have to work four hours farming news at the end of it. I’m free to work myself into a frazzle and collapse on the couch with a glass of wine at its end. Plus, I want to make a giant dent in “Chronic City” this weekend.
I need to remind myself, however, that to-do lists are proof you’re alive, and if I wanted even the alive alternative, I could look up the Facebook photo of our own mild-mannered Jeff with a giant bandage taped under his nose. He looks a little like Jack Nicholson in “Chinatown,” only without the nice suit.
So with that, I’m dumping this thin gruel into the same ol’ same ol’ category and starting my day. Because that sanding sugar isn’t going to buy itself, y’know.
Have a great weekend.