I worked all day on a special project for Kikay and as I write this I’ve spent approximately 20 minutes staring at the Internet wondering what else to do before the inevitably similar day tomorrow. Within that 20 minutes I finally wrote a ‘spiel’ to send to people interested in advertising at Mom Exchange, whose instructions I finalized a few days ago, no doubt again similar to this one in terms of busyness (yes another invented word. I just like making them up so shoot me).
At any rate, herewith are random thoughts from my vegged out mind minutes away from going beddy night night.
On my bedside is the marvelous One Hundred Years Of Solitude by – need I say who wrote it but I’ll say it anyway why not – Gabriel Garcia Marquez. A book which in my opinion, he probably wrote whilst on a perpetual narcotic induced high. Because Jesus H Christ, how could someone write something so magnificent as that. It’s the sort of thing you kind of drone on throughout, turning page after page before you realize that what seemed initially like a continuous tide of ill connected events is actually starting to frame itself into a story which is, without you knowing it, taking you on a ride.
And that is exactly how I’d describe that giddy feeling when I start enjoying a book, or a movie, or any story in other words. The author is taking you on a ride, and you don’t know it, like a magician making you look one way while his other hand reaches in your pocket and takes whatever is there to take. Like how you sit on a beach transfixed at the distance before realizing the waves have crept up and you’re feet have sunk in the sand.
And the truth is I didn’t want to read what I knew was going to be a good book, exactly because of the way it takes me away from the things one has to do in life. Set meetings. Do your accounting. Deal with clients. Return a wrong delivery. Settle your accounts. Deposit and withdraw from the bank. Implement a category based wordpress conditional tag on kikay’s sidebar. Load my G-Cash. Reload my debit card. Buy a Flickr account. Pick up my new calling cards. Work out so you don’t get too soft. Print your presentation so you can give them out at the meeting this week. Pay the phone bill. Fix the network cables askew on the floor. Cover an event. Write a Valentine’s post for next week. Shake the toilet handle so it doesn’t waste water. Wash your bag because it looks filthy. Shampoo your room’s carpet. Buy a new bedsheet. Buy a gift. Collect from a client. Look for writers. Pay those writers.
All those things get turned around to the second niche of things to do.
Because I had to read a good book. Taking me on a trip I don’t want to go to. But go anyway.
I’m glad I got at least something done today. I’d have seriously kicked myself if I’d have bummed out to read the day away. At some point in my life I’ll have the leisure to do such things. But now now. Not yet. Not by a long time.