Going to the Franklinton library with Susie turned out to be a good idea after all. It did wear me down enough that I slept like a baby. I endured the finale of The Biggest Loser while Steph was watching it in bed, and then it was dreamland from then on–except for the brief awakenings several times during the night. Steph also claims I’m snoring quite loudly–and quite often in her ear. I hope that’s just a temporary byproduct of this (I hope) soon-to-be-gone bug. I also ate quite late. Steph was $80 richer in cash once her final lesson was over, so we ordered Pizza Hut and, with Susie’s help, ate an entire large Meat Lovers’ pizza.
Susie and I are having a Dad ‘n’ Daughter Dinner at Wendy’s tonight. Steph is at Covenant Group at the Unitarian Church, and will be having dinner beforehand, so Susie and I are at the Hilltop Library right now.
I seem to have gotten my second wind where work is concerned. I typed five specialists’ reports today. All of them were orthopedists, but my two least favorite physicians were not among those with dictations in the queue. The last hour or so of the day, I typed Statements of Fact and Lump Sum Advancements, and I had a disk of The Beatles’ Revolver going… but not through the earphones. My ears had taken enough of a beating for one day.
We’re not going to do anything special for Christmas. We have put up neither trees nor stockings, but we will exchange solstice gifts Saturday night. On the 25th itself, we’re going to either a Chinese or kosher restaurant and then to a matinee movie.
One of the baby steps I am taking toward ending my writer’s block is that, before New Year’s Day, I want to make my office habitable. Since I froze on National Novel-Writing Month in November, I’ve ventured into the office only to charge my cell phone or to put down fresh newspaper where Diana the springer spaniel has been relieving herself lately. It didn’t dawn on me just how much the place has deteriorated until Susie was finished using about five World Book volumes she had borrowed from me for her homework. They live in two plastic milk crates on one end of my desk (I bought the complete set–minus the volume for the letter I–at a library discard sale 2-3 years ago for about $5), and normally I would make sure the volumes went into the right place. Instead, I just stacked them haphazardly on top of a boom box on my file cabinet.
I don’t aspire to make it museum-neat, so neat that it looks like something you’d see when standing on the other side of a red velvet cord, but I want it to be a place where I can work and spend a lot of time. I am no neat freak–far from it–but there is a level of clutter in which I cannot work. I’m sure the half-finished page in my typewriter is literally starting to gather dust.
As for the block, I haven’t abandoned hope. I’m proud that I’m being more consistent about writing in here, and I have written in my handwritten diary three days in a row–sometimes twice in one day. And I actually mailed a post card to an old friend from Ohio University this afternoon. I still keep a spiral-bound notebook in the breast pocket of my shirt, complete with pen, but nothing other than phone numbers, shopping lists, etc. have gone into it for awhile.
This, too, shall pass.