Today promises to be still warmer than yesterday, Seattle's first real taste of summer. Definitely plays to my urge for a summer break, a disconnection (however brief) from the rhythms of the daily grind. Then again, my job is an unmitigated blessing, undeniably so even in my moments of lesser motivation. Not many people get to serve as I do and collect a paycheck for it, particularly with the level of autonomy I'm afforded.
You have no idea how strange my life is becoming. Welcome to Level Two.
Finished The Sacred Romance while sitting on Victrola's stoop at dusk last night. The stacks of unread books lining my shelves stir guilt in me when I consider them, and I am paralyzed to choose which is next. My impulse buying has decreased in later years, but they still form a visual (if unreasonable) to-do list that staggers me past the point of action. Screw it: I'll just pick something. There'll be Nietzsche and Lewis this summer as well.
There is a genuine, bona fide Man-In-Black outside the door to Victrola, standing sentry to a black sedan with tinted windows. Wayne tells me it's just a regular guy who rented a town car (with driver) to the airport.
If you're reading this, you should come to Seattle. It's beautiful here.