I don't live what most people would call an exciting life. Far from it, in fact.
Today, for instance, is a lovely Saturday in San Francisco. For a good part of the day I've undetrtaken a Herculean task: to reduce the amount of email in my personal inbox to 0. It started at 3600. It just dipped below 900. This is cause for celebration. If only I had some booze.
Let me be clear about the cause of my dullness. I am poor. That doens't mean I don't go out. Just last night I visited the ballpark for simulcast opera. It was Tosca. It was super-drama, somewhat depressing, but interesting to sit in a stadium with 20,000 other people and have it be quiet. Even the kids were quiet. Even the seagulls. Puccini does that, evidently.
But it does mean that when I go out it's for practical, and inexpensive, purposes. To grocery shop. Work out. Have a swim in UC's outdoor pool with a view of downtown -- I call it the poolscape. Go see my acupuncturist.
And there's so much to do at home! Mid-year accounting. Emailing people I haven't talked to in ages. Clean the bathroom. Do the ironing. Just today, I managed to fit a two-hour nap into the programme. Now I can't wake up.
So what do I have to share about this torpor-filled existence? It's quite nice. Dull. Unexciting. Soothing. And cheap.
Ooops, it's dinner time.
Love to all,
Judy
