Today will be Mr. Fixit's last day here for a month or so. He will arrive any minute, I am certain, so I am hurriedly writing a quick post. There are still many more repairs to make on the exterior of the house and the apartment, and much more of my dwindling funds to spend, but I will have some respite during the holiday season, or what is left of it. Tonight I will begin my own special celebrations. And when I wake tomorrow, I will see what I feel. Oh, shit, I just remembered I have a crack of dawn doctor's appointment tomorrow. Well, after that, then.
Mr. Fixit didn't get here until two yesterday, so I got to exercise and go to lunch before his arrival. I went for ceviche and garbanzo bean soup and had a sangria besides, and it might have been glorious, but sitting alone outside an almost empty restaurant, I felt the welling of a great hollow inside. I expect to feel some sadness and loneliness as Christmas approaches. The year's isolation will be upon me once again.
But let me not lament that which might be nor project emotions onto the future. I am reading McCarthy as reported, and when that is finished, I plan to read Proust. Lord knows how much. I've never "cottoned" to his writing before, but I plan to make a fresh start with clearer eyes this time. Perhaps the old queen will teach me a thing or two.
I have photo dreams and hopes, too. I want to give the large format cameras a full effort this go around. They are unwieldy and difficult, but I plan to master them once and for all. It will be a lot of work, but I've gotten used to that these past months, and this will be work without the constant tearing of emotional strife. I just want to find out if all the trouble will yield up results that I think is worth the effort. If I give the process full days, I should know fairly quickly.
But I should not forget that I have much work to do without Mr. Fixit's help. There is that, too. The more I think about it, the more I realize that the holidays will be briefer than ever before. They could be exactly nonexistent.
I made Mr. Fixit dinner last night and got him drunk for his long drive home, so it appears he is not going to be here as early as he predicted. Selavy. I'll "see" you tomorrow for the start of my holiday "experience." Until then. . . .
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