Areas of Unrest

13 February 2000 - The Proper Enjoyment of Vices

QOTD: "In the third stanza, she compares him to a tuna casserole." - Garrison Keillor discussing a love sonnet sent in by a listener

Reading: Joan Hess, Misery Loves Maggody

Listening to: Pierre Bensusan, Nice Feeling (and I should note that the title refers to the French city, Nice)

Well, one work situation turned out okay, since Milo recognized that the engineering support guys weren't being productive. We went to Jim and he suggested we wait until we see their trip report, but that he expected that it wouldn't tell us much. But it appears that Jim's friendship with their boss is not a factor at all.

On the other hand, I am again entangled in trying to resolve a thorny requirements issue. It's an undying source of frustration to me that people sign off on memos of agreement and, then, when it's way too late to do anything about it, claim a requirement was misinterpreted. We'll have some sort of meeting late in the week - which also means that I have to choose between playing Miriam the Requirements Slayer on Thursday or making a one day trip to Colorado Springs to a meeting which is likely to be far more interesting.

So I spent the weekend dealing with all this stress via assorted vices. General sloth, including lengthy naps both yesterday and today, mild gluttony in the form of Haagen-Dazs cinnamon ice cream (the store didn't have any McConnell's Turkish coffee), and a serious book binge helped. I did go out Saturday night to the W.O.W. concert, as much to socialize with a few storytellers I see infrequently as for any other reason, and took advantage of being at the Beverly Hills Library to pick up tax forms I needed. But I didn't even look at the taxes yet, nor did I balance my checkbook, nor did I work on putting photos in albums, nor any of the other assorted household tasks I had planned. Aside from those few hours at the library, I spent the weekend curled up in bed, mainlining mysteries. (Okay, there was one non-mystery in the mix - a book about urban legends.)

The weather today was especially suitable for this level of laziness. We do need rain and I suppose I'd rather have it pour when I don't have to go anywhere. I found myself thinking about summer camp and how we'd stand on the porch and wash our hair in the rain. The idea was that rainwater was purer, so it would carry some sort of mysterious conditioning properties. I thought about going out onto the balcony and washing my hair. And then I looked at how dirty the balcony is and thought about what chemicals rain that had passed through Los Angeles air was likely to carry and decided that it wasn't such a good idea after all. Instead, I took a bubble bath and retreated back to my cozy flannel sheets, listening to the rain and feeling not the least bit guilty about my self-indulgence.