I was tired last night, too, but it didn't stop me from writing. "Is strong vooman." *fists in the air like a winning prizefighter* No little "tired" is going to kick my butt, I can write with one eye tied behind my back. I am getting a little tired of going to the dive shop every day, though, and the waking up at 6:30 every day part, I am so over. I am having fantasies of going diving with Jimmy Stewart and being on a beach or in a tropical villa, though. Yep, it's the middle of the winter. Cabin fever, anyone? (Think of your fat paycheck, Barbara, the paycheck.)
February 26--Hikkadwa, Sri Lanka. The breaks still drew the surfer boys, Daria saw. It had been thirty years... no... God, forty years since she had followed her own surfer boy around the globe to this tiny speck in the Indian Ocean. They had lived in a bamboo and thatch hut not far from where she sat, surviving on rice and a bag of yellow lentils that that boy from Sydney (Aaron, maybe?) had carried on his shoulder all the way from Colombo. That first season had been crazy, fun but crazy with all the sun-bleached blond boys and girls clustered around driftwood fires at night, drinking warm Golden Rooster beers, someone playing folk songs on a guitar, and passing around a joint. Every memory she had of those long-gone days she saw through a smoky haze. They were such fools, carefree fools, thinking that they could live out their lives in communal bliss. They were all so disdainful of their parents' staid lives and then, one by one, they either turned into their parents or faded deeper into the counterculture until they disappeared. She and Jack had built a lunch counter to sell bowls of rice, lentils (always lentils), onions and curry to their friends that grew into a chain of restaurants in small towns and malls all over the Indian subcontinent. Malls. God, it was lucky that Jack had died of a sudden heart attack before the first D&J's had opened in the mall in town; that big a step into conventional business would have killed him, but it made her a rich woman.
Oh, her I like. Enjoy your Saturday. I'm working. Bah.