envelopes marked for the personal life.
Nothing of value that hasn't yet vanished--
borne on the winds of Aquarian tides,
echoed words spoken by token romantics;
rock n roll supermen, ghosts of new vice".
Bill Nelson--"Love is Swift Arrows"
Today was a day in which I slept late after insomnia, had no breakfast, no lunch, spent time on a long conference call, and felt flashes of anger, flashes of triumph and flashes of mundanity. I am very busy now. This is a good thing; in this economy, to have business is a fine thing indeed. But as I sit home, looking down the barrel of long weekend in which I have chores to do and no "big" plans, it's just a slight bit discouraging. Each day I get more on my "hobby" list done; I wish to be caught up soon. Tomorrow I must achieve, produce, meet schedules and work hard for people who deserve my hardest efforts. Tonight I must get a good night's sleep. Insomnia is not all bad, but it wears me out.
I need a vacation. It need not be scenic, it need not be far, and it need not be long. It need not even be a vacation, really. I need 12 hours of uninterrupted break--from everything. I'll settle for 4, provided it is 4 hours away from television, sleep, or dawdling, but 4 real "away" hours. Perhaps I'll find 12 hours this weekend, and the imagination to use it properly. If nothing else, maybe I can also release a bookcrossing.com book into the wild or something. What good is a free book if it's on my imaginary library at www.bookcrossing.com, and not going to a new home? Also, I want to listen to that Proclaimers CD I got at a thrift store last Sunday. All I need is time!