Diary (not dairy, as first written) of a voice unheard, Day 1

Today was a day of sheer indulgence. True, I’m still feeling a mite poorly and my recent bout with illness makes me want to baby myself tenderly to stave off another TKO round, but really, I was very, very lazy. Saturday is such a wonderful day, rife with possibilities for goofing off and restful fantasies. Even if there is a lot of work to be done, the alluring promise of Sunday…I can do that on Sunday…lurks in the mind and is able to overcome all but the most purposeful of intent. I had intended to do many things today - soak up some precious vitamin D, work up a sweat, restock on victuals, finish on my report, swing by the office, start making the week’s worth of food, clean, clean, clean…and yes, I accomplished a lot today. However, most of it wasn’t exactly productive, so much as somewhat vain attempts at quality entertainment. Number of books read: 2; number of good books read: 0. Labyrinth (I am tired of silly Grail stories. Thanks a lot, Dan Brown.) and Step on a Crack (Oh, James Patterson, you used to be good! Or maybe it’s that I was a lot younger when I first started reading you and have since outgrown your stilted, simplistic writing. I wonder which it is?) did not exactly fall into the realm of satisfying literature. Number of movies watched: 2; number of good movies watched: 0.85. Bewitched made me bemoan Nikki Kidman and Will Ferrell, but In Good Company was good drama, though not actually funny (disappointing in something billed as a comedy).

I did manage to get some cooking done…used up some straggler veggies and whipped up a batch of somewhat healthful loaded pasta. Classic, procrastinating me - the cod chowder I’ve been meaning to make all of this bitterly cold week finally became reality amidst mid fifty-degree temps and vigorous sunshine…which I experienced not at all firsthand, but only through my windows. Some days, even if I want to go outside, sheer inertia keeps me locked indoors and draped over various pieces of furniture. As is my wont, I finally ventured out only after the sun was well down (what is that about me? I do this all the time! I LOVE the sunshiny outdoors and yet sometimes, on a perfectly beautiful and absolutely responsibility-free day, I let it…pass me by. Why, why, why?) to make a TJ’s run. Picked up some dried mangoes; not the chili mangoes that I’ve been reading about, as those sound a touch exotic for me. They’re unsulphured and unsweetened, so hopefully they’ll turn out at least somewhat like my old-timey favorite Chinatown mangoes, the Key mangoes in the green and white package that I never found after the 80s. Got some pretty brussel sprouts as well… seems I’m going full on into winter cooking mode just as we’re leaving (please!) the cold behind. I made last week’s family binge pig-out entries into the food book. We’re coming up on the last pages of the red book and I have to decide soon whether to continue the habit into a second volume, or to let the documentation bug fade away. Did heaps of dishes and prepped a run in the dish non-just-a-dryer. It takes forever to fill that thing up unless I’m consciously trying. These days, I’m trying to remember to use it more, in anticipation of future practices.

I talked to my dad for a long while. Spoke for a moment to the baby, who was too d*mn happy to fob me off on the nearest parent – I guess constant have-you-got-a-job-yet-quizzing gets wearisome. This family thing is depressing us all, though I’m glad that at least the majority grasps the seriousness of the situation. I truly hope we can come out the other side intact, rather than estranged. That’s a possibility that I’ve long contemplated, but have never wanted to face. Poor dad, body sick and heartsick at the same time. His life isn’t easy right now. I wish I could help, but the girlbaby is right – my unrealistically hopeful/volatile temper mix tends to lead to unfortunate explosions that muck up the situation and make things worse. I am the worst negotiator in the world, because I’ve never learned how to make others see my side and tend to get defensive and screechy when I fail. Sigh. In order to sweeten the conversation, I revealed golden tidbits about my personal life. Ba was surprised, gratified, interested, and lecturous. Timing is everything, because I thought it was kind of sweet, albeit misguided. Parents really can’t change their spots this late in the game.

I thought a lot about working. I looked over at my pile several times, absolutely intending to go over and start pecking at my charts and graphs. Somehow, mediocre film and fiction always barred the way. Tomorrow I will have no such luxury and must drill down to the nitty gritty of government work. Oh, delight of my own lazymaking.

I am not looking forward to Spring Forward. HATE!! Spring forward. A lot.