This is the time of year, well, to be honest, one of the times of year, when the idea of coming to work seems overwhelmingly, well, in the way of the things I want to do.
I spent the weekend finishing a sweater I had all but finished a year ago, attending a dinner party, going on a walk — which meant I had no time at all to vacuum and start getting ready for Christmas.
Also, it’s a day of obligations. If I would just take care of a few of them, I would feel a lot better. And then I could go home and put lights on the mantel.
It was a nice walk, actually. I went with A and K and we tried out a new trail around a reservoir. I’m dying to do the whole thing, which is 15 miles — so good practice for the AT. (It seems impossible. 5 is about my limit at the moment. I’ve walked 8 but felt near death at the end. And with no pack.) We talked about Bill Bryson and the way his books don’t exactly finish the subject he’s talking about; whether people of our generation ever had lengthy conversations in college about what they believed in; how great it is when you feel like your children are happy, how miserable it is when you feel that they aren’t, and the inevitability of periods of unhappiness, especially in one’s twenties, which is really a miserable period of life no matter what.
A message came from L. She can’t take a week off, but we could do two consecutive long weekends — perhaps Connecticut (50 miles) or Massachusetts (90 miles.) She said, “3 days at a time x 2 would be enough to kill the MA or CT sections.” I think it’s funny that she, and I, are thinking in terms of “killing off” sections. That’s how tough we are.
All right — obligations to knock off. Back soon.