"Standing at the fork in the road, you can stand there and agonize 'til your agony's your heaviest load"
The title line's from "Watershed", one of the three or four songs the Indigo Girls have done over the years that I really like. (Most of their work's of little interest to me, and the two discs I impulsively bought some time back had a terribly low appeal when one averaged their tracks.) I hadn't listened to it in what at least seems a long time, so I added it and "Hammer and a Nail" to my PC's music library so it can be shuffled into the mix.
Silence, silence... Another long week that's feeling like a bad rerun, and with my batteries drained through most of it I opted to let everything pass without comment. That's going to remain the case, though I'll bring you a little up to date on my corner of the universe. (Thanks for the comments on the earlier entries, btw. I simply haven't felt focused enough to do much in the way of aknowledgement or reciprocation.)
Too much time in work this week, made all the worse by both my envy of the kids' summer vacation starting*, a thunderhead growing in the workplace, and my wife being back in the hospital since early Monday morning. (A sudden and acute respiratory infection that, like a ripping fart on the slopes of the Alps in springtime, precipitated an avalanche of various medical problems.) The current expectation is that we'll get her back home sometime Monday, but if earlier experience hadn't already taught me too well, this week would have done the trick -- such predictions are foolhardy challenges to the darkly whimsical forces of the universe. We've already gone through "Tuesday" and then "Thursday -- Friday at the latest" on this week's sad sack hit parade, so I'll pass on believing any of the predictions. Plenty of time for hindsight's pure vision.
Having cleared this week's real workload (not including various imaginary items that may have been in someone else's mind higher up the organizational chain), even gotten several things not due until Monday onto people's desks, I made arrangements with my assistant concerning the work and Crypt Leak concerning the end-of-day lights and locks check and fled the working week shortly after 10:30 this morning. I'd been in since about 7, so it was 3.5 hours that capped off 50 or so hours of work this week, so I cannot bring myself to feel guilty about it. Too much is definitely enough.
The kids are deeply into summertime, night owl mode, each indulging his interests now that daily schedules have disappeared, so they were both still asleep when I came home. I rallied the troops a little later, and the three of us (and one of their friends to make us a Friday foursome) went out to catch a 2:20 showing of George A. Romero's 20-years-in-coming, fourth movie in his zombie series, Land of the Dead. We all enjoyed it, each according to his lights. (No real spoilers below, btw.)
Romero taps and then extends some social themes he'd touched on mainly in 1978's Dawn of the Dead and more faintly in 1985's Day of the Dead, and by some latter scenes in the film I doubt that anyone with the phrase floating around in his memory wouldn't find himself recalling the slogan "eat the rich." A good zombie movie is generally welcome around here, all the moreso when life has me wishing for a global apocalypse to give the deck a vigorous shuffle -- which is pretty much every waking hour.
So, that's what's been up since last time. Too little time and energy to spare for much else. I'll get back to this more regularly... whenever I do.
(* Seriously, if I could choose the target I would happily kill someone in exchange for two and a half months of vacation each year and a fresh start every fall. So, if you're listening, Morning Star, we can iron out the details over lunch... No, though, part of this doesn't mean that I'm entertaining the financially infeasible notion of trying to become a teacher.)
Of course, then I see something like this and realize (again) that my complaints are such petty things.
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