A Point In the Palm: Day Two Hundred Seventy-Five

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A new post typed gingerly as my left hand is quite sore for some reason.

For a half-second, a half of a half of a half, I’m allowing myself a glimpse of life without this yoke.  I’m thinking about a time when I won’t work from home, trying to just put in 4 focused hours, end up putting in 10, half-distracted ones and feel no further ahead than when I started – when I won’t plot to somehow get to work at 6am (that is a completely impossible pipe dream) every day from here to the end to get everything done.

I think my therapist would say that I can only do what I can do.  It’s true, but my opinion on how much that is seems to vary moment to moment.   My faith shrinks (and grows – from time to time, but mostly, I find that it shrinks) and I wonder if I’m moving closer or further away from anything I really care about.

Autumn seems to be the time, if I go back and glance at the archives, when things start to arrange themselves in my mind, when I start to see my pattern for what it is – something I can stop at any time, not an addiction to purge, just a habit to alter.  A groove, a rut that can be sidestepped.  Plans start to come together in autumn.  I got my final hotel room for Boston and was able to save just a tiny bit of money on it.  Not enough so that I feel really great about the fact that I will check in, wash myself off, get something to eat, and I expect collapse into six hours sleep before getting up and getting to the airport to fly home.  I am also thinking about possibly taking a day trip to Pompeii, but, well, I don’t know if I will get back to Italy or not. The Trevi fountain trick has yet to convert me, so maybe it’s worth the money to run off and do it while I’m there.  I’m waiting for my friend’s feedback on that one.  We may be too drunk to move.  I don’t know! That’s the joy of it, I don’t know!

This is just a note of reminder, but I will not be posting while in Italy.  There’s just no way to haul the computer around.

I really feel that for the first time once the new job begins I will have the time and mental capacity to take care of my health. You heard it here first and it’s only on me to hold my feet to the fire and do it, but it’s thrilling to imagine being able to be at home and concentrate wholly on that without flicking back every hour to the anchors awaiting me in the morning.

To say that the short-term solution will no longer be necessary.  To ply the liniments, to lay on thickly all the salves, to cocoon all winter and emerge in the spring a new sort of creature.

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