Monday night, just got off the phone with Pat, telling him I was about to go outside and pull weeds. Sharaun then walked out the door headed to the gym and, rather than haul the baby monitor outside with me into the 100°+ degree twilight, I decided to save it for another day. Another day on pins and needles at work, where the current climate is all headmen and falling axes. Without going into the whole story about my ongoing flirtation with the breadlines, suffice it to say that things have been a bit stressful and the atmosphere isn’t the most work-conducive. In fact, I don’t think I’ve done a “real” bit of work in three days now – ever since my employer raised the threat level to orange. It seems however, that I have, for now, weathered the storm – once again proving my indispensability. Chance has once again enabled me to grow more undeservedly self-assured and pompous. One day I’ll choke on this silver spoon, it’s a sure thing.
You may notice the “double posting” for today. You’ll see the entry below this one is dedicated to one of this year’s Halloween projects. I intend to document my projects a little better from now on, and will have a static, living post for each where updates will go. Not that you care about this, but it’s just easier for me to document the projects in a living post rather than setup an entirely new dedicated page. Besides, how can I one day hope to get some projects listed on the Monsterlist if I don’t document them properly and publish on the internet?
Today, while cleaning out my My Documents folder at work, I came across a curious Word document called “South Side of the Island.doc.” Not recognizing the file by name, I opened it to investigate. Inside was written only the following:
South Side of the Island
Counting myself (a librarian by former trade), the population of our little island stood at a proud six bodies:
- Ms. O, who, it was said, was once a fearless sea-captain, and whose house had a mast sprouting from its center, complete with crow’s nest atop.
- Mr. & Mrs. U, both schoolteachers by former trade. Their grey hair always a little wild, and both of them given to being easily surprised or even skittish.
- Mr. T, a brilliant scientist and inventor.
- Mr. H, who was once a police officer. Made a body feel right secure to have a former man of the law nearby.
I read this over and over again, trying to place it. Did I write this? Had I downloaded it or copied/pasted it from somewhere? I quick Google search turned up nothing. I read and reread it, and ever so slowly started remembering… I think I did write this. The date on the file says August of last year; you wouldn’t think my memory would fade that fast – but it seems it has. Maybe I was going to write a story about my #1 topic: an island. I think I was most surprised to realize I’d written it because it actually sounded interesting, and when I thought it was something I’d stumbled on rather than my own craft I actually wished I could read more.
I don’t know what it is about my “work smarter, not harder” post that attracts the whackjob comments, but it sure seems to be accruing them slowly. Check out this doozy and the one below it for an example of what I’m talking about. The other day I thought I might be imagining that the number of “random” comments I get here on sounds familiar was increasing, but with some great out-of-nowhere ones cropping up this week, I think it’s out of the realm of imagination and into the realm of fact. Maybe I’ve penetrated Google deep enough that I’m now getting a “second wave” of search-driven visitors. I say bring ’em on, I gotta believe I’m writing for someone…
I much prefer sitting here listening to music than sitting here watching TV. Let’s face it, I’m rarely sitting here without this laptop in front of me anyway, and listening to something multitasks a lot better with writing than watching something does. Even if Sharaun is home (she’s not now) and the TV is mandatory, I’m usually only listening anyway. The only watching I’m doing right now is the watching of Keaton’s video baby monitor, showing me some flickering, washed out, ghostly-grey bird’s-eye shot of her resting peacefully in her crib. Looking more like a wobbly kinescopic view into some past era than a representation of real-time events, I can barely make out her tiny form in contrast to the other shapeless grainy wiggles. This thing cost $200? It almost works like something I’d consider paying $40 for when you wrap tin foil around the antenna. Wow, that little nothing-sentence turned into a whole paragraph… now if that ain’t God’s bounty then I challenge you to show me what is.
I got more in me, but I’ll call this one done and put it in tomorrow’s so I have to write less then. Brilliant, nay? Goodnight my lovers and haters.