2004-05-12

homework

god bless laptops. better yet, god bless hand-me-down hand-outs from your friend in IT. this slim little number is an old Sony Vaio that once belonged to the VP of Marketing. I�ve never really used it, but, gosh-darnit, I�m-a gonna start. over a year ago it served my little sister well, a tool to send grad school papers across the country. I�ve heard it�s herky-jerky and a tad crash prone, but I ain�t �specting too much more than a repository for my words. maybe it�s a cute caf� accessory to sport among the more well-off iBook users. once upon a time people would have marveled at my unit�s lack of size, but small just isn�t enough anymore. you gotta be stylish and cute. being white helps, too.

I�m not sure what I�m writing here. will this be an after-school Diaryland entry or just a meandering, fluffed-up to-do list? ah, lovely iced coffee, left-over from breakfast. Portishead warbling in the background. Bright yellow-green radiating off the late spring trees across the street. I had meant to come home and immediately depart for swim practice. some day-end work drama injected another mood into me. it�s easy to rationalize not working out after lifting and a Spin class this morning. I�m a synchro swimmer not a distance swimmer, and besides, I already had my Masters workout for the month on Monday. I left two voicemails with friends hoping from a distraction from pool time. should B-dawg call, I could find myself splashing around, working on sculling and elusive lower abdominal control. the other message may result in a massage. I�d be fine left here just tapping away until my wrists start whining about the miniature keyboard.

as a man of many interests, I find it funny that I�m devoting a smidge of time to writing. don�t get me wrong, I love it. it�s the most creative thing I�ve done in a while, although the overlap of creativity and stream-of-consciousness regurgitation cum exhibitionism probably isn�t as great as I aspire it to be. I�m on the cusp of three other new hobbies, a New Year�s resolution/collectible fetish, piles of reading, home improvement (or is it just getting it up to par?) projects, basic chores, filing/organization and the aforementioned synchronized swimming. I could blame it on work or myself, but that doesn�t buy me any extra time to:

• snip away at my Bonsai,

• learn Russian,

• become a filmmaker (remember to buy expensive G5 before plugging in four-week-old birthday camera),

• write letters with any of six fountain pens and reams of stationery,

• paint bathroom shelf and back-of-door (then unpack),

• sweep & wash floors,

• dust,

• clear desk and bookshelf clutter, and, of course,

• stretch and swim.

sure, I gave up ultrarunning and triathlon, but I have yet to see the hours and hours I spent running and riding delivered to my doorstep in large chunks. instead, I whittle them away by staying late at work, dawdling around the house, succumbing to cable TV, the occasional social outing and making less than stellar dinners. my two-bedroom pantry next door must be one of the most expensive self-storage units in SF. at least, I visit to watch DVDs a couple times each month and dry clothes in the back room. I guess emergency poops also help justify its existence and expense.

well, heck. at least I�m writing here and there. and this lil� laptop is a tool to make my home time more productive. just a little prep work for November�s NaNoWriMo, for which I am emotionally and inspirationally and skillfully and stylishly mal-prepared. maybe I�ll even be able to populate these pages more frequently. writing chez moi feels a bit better than the rushed work-time posts. perhaps it reads better too.

my phone still isn�t ringing, but that�s all for now.

earlier - later