August 07, 2004

12:59 a.m.

The Workless Workday

The day wove itself like a new sweater. I meant to do all sorts of work -- I'm so behind on data entry and phone calls -- but Chris called in the morning and said Froc had finished refretting his mandolin, and could I go to Ashford to get it? It's at least 40 minutes for me, but it would be even longer for Chris, and I needed to take my Franklin in for a truss rod adjustment anyway, so I called Froc. He was home. Off I went.

He did my adjustment while I waited; I paid him for the mandolin work and stopped off at my til-now-favorite Indian restaurant for the world's best korma. I hadn't eaten there in many months -- I actually only get there once or twice a year anyway -- and for the first time, it seemed the recipe had changed. It was still good, but it wasn't foot-stomping good. Well, it's one less thing to crave.

Once home I ate, knitted for about half an hour (started a sweater, actually) and then went on what turned out to be a three hour bike ride of 22.5 miles. It was a perfect day. Another rider stopped me with subtle but insistent hand signals and I saw the deer he'd been watching for ten minutes. She was grazing at the edge of the woods, not particularly upset by us being there. After a couple more minutes she wandered away.

The moment I got home there was a message from Rose inviting me to dinner -- by then it was 7:00, but I called her and she was just taking the portobellos and eggplant off the grill. I hied myself over there, with laundry in tow, and spent the evening watching a video of Mystery Science Theatre 3000 ("The Head that Would Not Die" -- a particularly heinous film) and playing with the dogs.

Once home, all the work I didn't do today looked up at me and said,

"Are you going to open this mail finally or what?"

"Do you realize tomorrow is Saturday and you can't call the dentist until Monday now, and you'd better take Advil with you over the weekend in case that tooth gets worse?"

"Hello, we're piles of papers and junk that have multiplied all over every surface of the apartment because you never put anything away any more. Don't you miss seeing your furniture?"

"Hey!! You've been promising to pack for days now, and there are three lonely boxes in the bedroom. Don't you think you ought to make a little more headway, now that you know when you're moving?"

"Excuse me, but I'm your voter registration and I've been here so long I'm starting to turn yellow. How about filling me out and taking me back to the damned post office?"

"Hey, Social Butterfly! Ever hear of a calendar? What do you think I'm here for? You need to call the potter you commissioned for dishes two months ago and make sure she hasn't run off with your money. You need to track down your missing guitar stand. You need to make sure your instrument insurance is complete. You need to do routing for Sunday's gig. Hop to, Missy!"

"I am a camera. What's more, I am YOUR camera and I have five gazillion photos and movies from Chicago which you need to download and organize if you're ever going to pull off this Mouse Caper."

"Letter from Honda! Letter from Honda! You're way overdue to have the brakes checked, among other 145,000-mile-related things. Stick a crowbar in your wallet and make the blasted appointment!"

"Wheee-yew! Can't you get around to handwashing all us gig clothes? We're reeking over here!"

"We are your hair roots. You must recolor us before we get too obvious, if you intend to go back to our natural color, even if it means standing in the hair color aisle at Walgreens for an hour trying to guess what color we really are any more, and whether putting yet ANOTHER shade over all the other colors will finally turn us green! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!"

And, finally,

"We are all your tax receipts for 2004. You haven't data-entered any of us yet. You'd better do it before you move. Save yourself a shitload of trouble later on."

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So you see why I've been avoiding all this.

It's harder when I'm away a lot.

Next week we play in West Virginia at a festival where most everyone will be naked.

It's an interesting job, to say the least.

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The only other thing of note is that I left a message for Will today inviting him to call me back, to talk about what's up with this rather nonexistent friendship. He didn't call back today. I think he's yella.