Wondering and Writing
The three o'clock edition of the PBS News Hour is playing as I write. Our manager took us to lunch today, late, as it happens, but we finally got out the door, he with a cell phone pressed against his head, we, ready for lunch at the brewery pub, leave early and go home. A bit of company surreal: a quick shift of gears from "grind it out at any cost" to "lunch on the company", take the rest of the afternoon, but, of course, come in later over the weekend to prepare for Monday if you must.
Robot life: days of working full tilt - tweak those bits! beat that clock! - and now (it's written in an HR master management manual) time to run a group mental health maintenance routine so take them out for lunch on the company, allocate an afternoon, don't spend more than so many dollars. I'm not really complaining, I consider a free lunch a friendly gesture in a not altogether friendly world, but today my mind is operating in wooden soldier mode with wooden soldier thoughts and suspicions. Not as much fun as in "gambling in Rick's Bar in Casablanca" mode, but better than others.
Two glasses of Guinness, a hot turkey platter with mashed potatoes and green peas - all the glamour anyone needs on a Friday take off the rest of the afternoon - and I was feeling better. Talk, talk - walk, walk - drive home. Wuss was surprised. He is sitting now on my lap. I'm thinking of a movie. Might. Might not. Turns out not. A nap, perhaps, in my wooden soldier's bed on this wooden soldier's afternoon.
Later. An hour's drifting between light and shadow, a clearer head, wondering what's up for the weekend. I ordered boxes of photo paper for the big color printer from Epson last week, but they haven't arrived. I have a test package of different kinds of photo paper for the black and white Epson and I'll run some tomorrow to see how they look before I order more. I promised one or two prints to people at work. I believe I said that last weekend and the weekend before - I'll run some prints - but promising them in person to someone is something else. Now I just have to find the negatives.
Saturday, early, babbling on. My regular cafe down near the lake began serving
breakfast at eight in the morning last month instead of seven. Eight is more civilized, but today, like most days, I was up and ready at seven so I drove to a restaurant in the opposite direction near Rockridge. Big place with its own parking lot, an Emil Villas, a throwback to a different era. Barbecue is their specialty, huge meals that answer the question "why are all Americans fat?" Because we eat production line food heaped upon huge platters in places like Emil Villas, any one of which could easily feed a family of four. Or five. I read the paper. I had coffee. I had a waffle and four strips of bacon. I paid the tab and drove home.
It's raining, the windy sunny Saturday that the Yahoo forecast said was coming today arrived yesterday instead and the rain forecast for Sunday is here right now. So it's raining and I'm wondering and writing. And yeah, fuzzy headed.
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