Thinking Out Loud - September 01, 2007

 

Sometimes I get in these "quiet moods"; not so much a depressed state of mind as it is a "a bit sad, but at peace with myself" type of feeling.   I'm sure everyone experiences it, to one degree or another.  I know when I do, I go into "hiding out mode", where I just want to be an observer--not a participant. 

I know, this all sounds a bit vague.

For being a single guy (with no girlfriend or family living nearby) I can keep pretty busy.  During the workday I am literally dealing with a dozen business emails every 30 minutes.  My office phone is always ringing, it seems.  People constantly at my desk.  (Meanwhile, I'm trying to get my work done & keep up to date on the emails from my sisters.)  Even the ride home from work--the "bus regulars".  Getting home and running into assorted neighbors, messages on my answering machine, going online & catching up with a wide assortment of online friends on a message board I belong to.  Always feeling like there's someone I'm "short-changing", because I haven't got the chance to talk to him/her/them for awhile.   

It all catches up with me.  I've been waiting all week for the workweek to end.  I've had some time scheduled off, and aside from a day planned with my sister & niece (this baby is so excited about "taking me to see Hairspray"), I have nothing else on my agenda.  I even turned down two offers from friends for a Labor Day get-together.  I had no real reason. 

(Here's an email from my sister Shawn this morning:  isn't she a lovely writer?)  

Sent:  Saturday, September 01, 2007 7:39 AM                                              

Subject:  couple things

(I would) love to read the Jodie Foster interview, thanks for thinking of me.  Jim and I are ready, have eaten breakfast, dressed to go to townwide yard sale. I just tried to wake up Sophia who said, "Mooom, turn around" and I said, "good morning honeybun" and she said, "No, turn around" - which means go away. And went back to sleep!  (Jim really wants the 3 of us to spend 30 minutes together). Everytime you say she's a baby I think well, yes and no. But now in her bed, with pale blue cotton bicycle shorts pajamas and a bunny on a cloud shirt, curled up, hair all over the pillow, butt as big as the palm of Jim's hand, I think "yes, she's just a baby". But I need her to get up!!!  When I told her we were going to take you with us to see Hairspray on Tuesday she RAN at my legs and hugged me and said "you're a wonderful mom, Mom".

(I'm looking forward to this--not so much the movie, but going to see it with my 2 year old niece, who already knows most of the songs.) 

Well, I know this entry didn't really say much, but like the title says--just thinking aloud.    (An online friend of mine, Ross--he recently made the comment that if I wrote about a can of soup, he'd enjoy reading about it.  God bless him, he's such a good guy.)  So there you go. 

I wish my mom was still alive--I'd love to give her a call.