I always like that Amelia Earheart (or is it Helen Keller? All quotes are misattributed in the Cliffs' Notes of my mind) tag about life being a grand adventure or it is nothing. I also like that Michael McClure "Meat Science" poem I read in Paris Review when I was the sort of young many who regularly bought Paris Review (and nonetheless sat in the stands at football games yelling "wooo, pig soooie") about how all sorts of lives half-lived "are suicide".
As pleased as I've been with the positive effects of keeping a personal journal--score one for the Puritans, who were big journal fans--this week I am focused on transmuting (or transmogrifying, which I always think is a cooler word) this personal progress into progress on even mundane fronts. Today was an enormously productive day, so I hope that the effort is succeeding.
As I sit here, an affidavit just completed,
resisting mightily the temptation to write about the two big trials in November that marked the onset of a mild period of exhaustion (hey, maybe my personal community could be alled "lawwarstories", a place for recovering litigators to tell about trials), I'm ready to slay dragons and learn sensitivity and trade all my paperbacks in for other paperbacks and even find the missing CDs.
I'd settle for just getting my tasks all done.
My wife left for her weekend Nebraska farm trip today. Maybe I can use the time alone to focus on getting things done.
