The Aerie
Moldy is out of the hospital, and apparently doing pretty well for a
man whose head is full of dead and living tumors, broken blood
vessels, and chemo drugs. Our buddy Avatar talked to him and said he
sounded tired but basically lucid. His wife, however, says he's
confused, having trouble with basic things like what a knife and fork
are for, and that his oncologist was very pessimistic that he'll ever
recover full use of his faculties.
This is just a little too similar to what happened to my dad three
months ago to be comfortable for me. Usually with flashbacks there's
some time between the initial event and the subsequent. This feels
more like the same thing continuing.
And I'm pissed at Moldy. His carelessness ("Gosh, I wonder if I should
see a doctor about this enlarged mole... naaah.") got him into this.
Two weeks ago everyone who cares for him gathered to show him they
support him... so he drives drunk to show how much he appreciates
their support. But of course there's not much I can do with this anger
(which is after all merely masking my despair).
So I don't know, I just gotta play it by ear for now. Hopefully he'll
bounce back. But according to his wife "His driving days are over,"
which is not an enthusiastic statement.
Bleah.
Okay, so last week I had to finish this big report, and Monday I
presented it. Fine, great. Everything went well.
And then I had... nothing. A week off or so. Normally, not good, since
work=money=life. But I have to finish [1]my book in a few days (March
1st), so I was looking forward to working on it this week.
Then the calls started to come. Clients, asking for work.
The human brain -- this human's brain anyway -- is a weird thing.
September of last year when a client called with work, I was on my
knees weeping with gratitude. Now I'm just annoyed.
So all week it's been do-the-first-thing-first. Set priorities, aim
for goals, get stuff done and out of the way and free up some time for
writing. And doing that, trying to FREE some time for writing, is
keeping me working solidly, efficiently, and very effectively, about
14 hours a day.
Today, which was open two days ago, is four hours of work at one
client in the morning, and four more in the afternoon at another.
This is GOOD! I want PAYING WORK! Then why am I so ANNOYED! Because I
want to get my book done, that's why. [2]Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs
as applied to privileged white male technogeek wannabe writers.
Okay, there, I vented that. Thank you for indulging me. I could have
bleeding brain tumors, a DUI and a wrecked car, and instead I have
people handing me paying work, and I'm complaining.
Must... maintain... perspective!
[3]Last
Posted by Albatross at February 26, 2003 12:00 AM