Here I am again... waiting. Waiting for a phone call so I can finish a tax return. Waiting for another call so I can get one signed and out of here. Waiting for this day to be over.
It is Thriday... the last day of my non-tax season workweek. It's not that I don't have plenty to do in the next hour, it's just that I don't want to do what I have here. It is waiting on me, too. It will wait until Monday. It's Thriday, and I'm ready to go home.
Why do I get this feeling of anticipation? Is it the cool weather which arrived over night? Is it the way the sun shines at an angle that makes the world seem orange and bright, even though the leaves are still green? Is it the new moon? What am I waiting for?
Several things have been telling me I need a change. My AOL horoscope, my bank account, my sister. I'd like a change, but I want a guarantee that it will be a good change, and no one will give me that. When I wish for things like change, I always think of the story about the monkey's paw. Remember that one? The couple wishes for money and get a big insurance payment when their son is killed in an industrial accident? I don't want that kind of change. Well, duh.
It appears I'm not willing to do what it takes to make a big change, either. I don't want to change jobs or get a new husband (as AOL suggested for some bizarre reason.) I do want to get organized, increase my energy, do everything on my to do list. Martha Stewart says she gets her energy from eating well and exercising. What's the fun in that?
So I want to eat a healthy diet that included Karmel Sutra ice cream and diet coke with lime. I want to exercise --- really. I have a yoga DVD and a Tai Bo DVD. I have walking shoes. I have cool weather.
OK... that's it. That's the change. I'll walk and enjoy the cool air. I'll do yoga and/or Tai Bo. I'll get energy.
Tomorrow.
Tonight I go to Oktoberfest.
Showing posts with label change. Show all posts
Showing posts with label change. Show all posts
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Monday, September 3, 2007
The Change
September doesn't usually mean much to me in the way of change. School starts in the middle of August. Usually, the heat and humidity will last until October. I don't care about the start of football season.
But this September seems to be bringing a freshness I didn't expect. After a summer of oppressive heat, waiting for the rain, waiting for the baby, waiting for my family's lives to take their respective upturns, September has come in cool and hopeful.
I suppose that sounds strange to most people. In most places, it is the long winter than freezes people's hearts and makes them wish for the spring thaw. Here, in SC, the summer is stultifying. By the middle of August, we wonder if we will ever breath again. Every year, I think about One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, in which they have a year of rain and everything and everyone is covered in algae or mildew. Even with a drought, that is what it is like in Columbia every summer. Sticky and mildewy and hot. Swimming pools are as warm as bathtubs. Ice melts in the freezer. The air conditioner runs full blast and barely gets the house to 90 degrees.
And then on August 31 the high was 89. I am always shocked by the difference between 89 and 98. I felt a breeze. There was no humidity, so "85" felt like "85". I walked around the yard and saw my poor neglected yard. I lay in the hammock and read. Believe me, it is much worse to neglect a hammock than a yard.
I feel renewed and ready for changes. I will plant the bushes in the butterfly garden after the heat and before the cold. Clean my house, paint Mark's room, sort the junk in the shed and have a yard sale. I can already feel the energy returning. Fall is here. At least for this weekend.
But this September seems to be bringing a freshness I didn't expect. After a summer of oppressive heat, waiting for the rain, waiting for the baby, waiting for my family's lives to take their respective upturns, September has come in cool and hopeful.
I suppose that sounds strange to most people. In most places, it is the long winter than freezes people's hearts and makes them wish for the spring thaw. Here, in SC, the summer is stultifying. By the middle of August, we wonder if we will ever breath again. Every year, I think about One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, in which they have a year of rain and everything and everyone is covered in algae or mildew. Even with a drought, that is what it is like in Columbia every summer. Sticky and mildewy and hot. Swimming pools are as warm as bathtubs. Ice melts in the freezer. The air conditioner runs full blast and barely gets the house to 90 degrees.
And then on August 31 the high was 89. I am always shocked by the difference between 89 and 98. I felt a breeze. There was no humidity, so "85" felt like "85". I walked around the yard and saw my poor neglected yard. I lay in the hammock and read. Believe me, it is much worse to neglect a hammock than a yard.
I feel renewed and ready for changes. I will plant the bushes in the butterfly garden after the heat and before the cold. Clean my house, paint Mark's room, sort the junk in the shed and have a yard sale. I can already feel the energy returning. Fall is here. At least for this weekend.
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