My daily existence has grown amorphous enough without the consistent interjection of inexpensive reading material, but there you go.
I spent a mere half-hour at Rio Vista Books yesterday and everything has been blown to blue-blazes. I’ve read two entire books since 2:00 p.m. Tuesday, reading into the evening and rising again at 5:00 a.m. I finished the second book just before my 9:00 a.m. mediation and dropped it onto the table.
Admittedly, these books do not challenge me, well-written though they might have been. I read a Ngaio Marsh that I hadn’t previously devoured; and Book Four of the Botswana-based series The No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency, Morality for Beautiful Girls, which somehow I had skipped. Both can be considered light-weight, though each author beautifully describes their settings and deftly reveals character and plot in a manner that makes me salivate and regret my wholly abysmal attempts at writing fiction.
Between the first and second of these reads, I did manage to run other, more critical errands, fix and eat dinner, and do dishes. I also deleted a thousand useless emails, folded a load of clothes, and sent out resumes to three vaguely potential employers.
But what I mostly did for the last twenty-hours, was read. And now I have to scramble to regroup. I have a deposition scheduled in Kansas City on Friday for which I need to draft questions for my pinch-hitter and nail down my client on whether she wants to go forward with it — code for whether she can afford it or not. Other neglected tasks await — I need to get a duplicate Social Security card and apply for a California Driver’s License. There is the nagging need to resolve the problem with the careless cardiologist who called my EKG normal when, in fact, it was not. He waved the paper in front of my eyes and said that he didn’t care whether or not I took my medication, though conceding, when pressed, that if the EKG was normal, the medication probably accounted for the result. His tiresome lack of judgment and disinterest discouraged me from dealing with his entire department. I’d rather read.
But I cannot lose myself in the rhythmic comfort of words today. The mediation concluded with a draft parenting plan between two parents for whose child I have served as guardian ad litem. One more case can be ticked off of my list. One less tie to Kansas City. One step closer to done. I will need a job soon. Putting aside the question of finances, how I spend my days defines me. It provides a vehicle for me to express my values.
I stare out the eastern-facing window at the fullness of the weeping willow tree. the delicate branches of which hang lush and low over the meadow. It’s a lovely day. I would like nothing better than to snatch another volume from the stack, and go outside to my rocker, with a cool drink, and a comfortable shawl. I would surrender to the embrace of books. I would be quite content.
It’s the twenty-eighth day of the fifty-first month of My Year Without Complaining. Life continues.