Tuesday, January 18, 2011


It's pretty darned white out my window this morning. The "experts" say we got just over 3" of snow yesterday and it's really overcast so the light's flat which makes the snow look really deep. Good for snowshoeing, bad for driving and shoveling, luckily Durwood bought me a big, red snowblower that takes care of 3" of snow lickety-split. Of course, the day-long snow made it even quieter than normal at the dive shop so I got through half of the new price list Mrs. Boss left for me to update on the POS (point-of-sale). It only took me half the day to remember to go back and get the adjustable chair so I could sit at the high counter and work instead of stand all day, so my back only hurt half the time. I'll finish it up today unless, of course, I'm overrun with customers, but there's always tomorrow--and Saturday. She's off to Grand Cayman so I'll be working most of next week. (Think of your paycheck, Barbara, not the lost time off.)

January 17--Cindy Sherman, Untitled Film Still. Galen loved the city, loved the pace of it, but she hated the people. There was never a time when she was alone on the street. Never one of those moments when it was all hers. Trucks and buses rumbled by at all hours. The subway roared in underground tunnels around the clock. People were everywhere, early morning, late at night someone moved in the city. Voices raised in joy or anger echoed in the canyons of the downtown. Music poured from clubs and street musicians were on every block. Even Central Park in the dead of winter had flocks of children playing and rabid fitness freaks ran in their layers of spandex and fleece. She thought she could endure them around her as long as none of the touched her. Or spoke to her. Or looked at her.

Man, oh, man, the writing fairy is sure on a break. I struggled to squeeze out that little bit last night. Tonight will be better, I'm sure. It's not supposed to be easy, is it?

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