I stayed in all day yesterday sifting through files on my hard drives. So many. I meant to do many things, but I stayed in the entire day. Then a text. I had forgotten that I was to attend a fundraiser that night. The factory always buys a table there, and I have been chosen as one to populate it. It is the worst fundraiser in the world. It is held at a Harley Davidson dealership that sits next to the interstate. And so I took a shower and put on my party clothes and headed out into the sunset.
I stayed as long as I could stand it, ate, drank, kibitzed, and came home.
I want to go somewhere in spite of everything. Each year, my big trips have been cancelled because of catastrophes. I am undone by it. C-U-B-A. I was there a very, very long time ago. It is not far from me. I could go for a week or less. What could go wrong?
The day is gray and humid and warm. My shoulder aches and throbs. I am done with the gym for awhile. Perhaps, though, I can do some gentle yoga. I feel the need for quiet, gentle things and solitude, melancholy and modernism. The holidays are about to begin. It is time for a quiet retreat.