My heart yearns for the freedom of retirement.
More than 40 years of full-time employment
- perhaps with the exception of 1986 when
unemployment lasted more than six months
and I actually managed to write a 600+ page novel
in my spare time while seeking a job.
Today, leisurely, I spent all morning online
thinking about my writing activities in my new variation.
I've been to the blogging circus and blogged away.
I have blogs I'm proud of, but political blogging in depth
- with a self-imposed obligation to write every day
robs all other creativity of energy.
Combined with the blood-sucking drain on emotional energy,
which is the substance of my employment and my duties.
Too-tired-to-think blogging robs me of my ultimate
literary and intellectual pleasures. I have a book in progress;
had one now going on twenty years. And there are more
where that one comes from.
By afternoon I brake off the online stuff and return to reworking
the kitchen as sweetheart and I had discussed earlier in the morning.
Went to the basement, freed up bricks and boards, hauled the rattan
furniture down there and set up brick-and-board shelving in the kitchen.
Moved the pink table into the bay and plan today is to continue moving
dishes, pots and pans and cooking utensils into more accessible places.
Sweetheart in conference call with MFSO Washington State Chapter
leadership team while I cook potatoes, onions, green onions, mushrooms,
tomatoes, eggs and cheese into a supper to remember.
Filling even if overdue and worth the wait.
We went to bed and fell asleep during Without A Trace
Woke up, turned the TV off after midnight.
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