One day I sat down at the computer around 9:00 or 10:00 and although I got up many times to do something else for a few minutes, when I got up for good it was 1:00 and I thought Holy Shit, that’s the whole morning spent there, and for what?
So now, each day before settling in front of the computer I set the stove timer for one hour, which vanishes in what seems like 15 minutes.
At the molasses speed of Scott’s laptop, in one hour I can fully update this blog and the Stubblejumpers FB page and check the email and that is all there is time for. My online reading has to wait for another day. I can’t read my daily newsletters to find out what’s happening in the world, but all I have to do is turn on the radio to be properly horrified. In the evening, Facebook is worth scrolling through if I’m tolerating TV programming that includes commercials; I don’t try to squeeze it into this one hour.
Not having a convenient computer handy is helping me change my habits, in a good way. Remember me telling you that recent months have allowed space to be around my thoughts and actions and experiences, so that I’m getting a clearer picture than before? Yeah, something like that.
We were given tickets to a concert by The Fortunate Ones, so we met up with Scott’s sister, brother, and aunt at the hall in town yesterday afternoon. The entertainers were a couple from Newfoundland who gave such a gorgeous rendition of Hank Williams’s “Lovesick Blues” that I nearly cried, right there in public. Heavenly harmonies, and if you want to hear a beautiful voice (and let’s face it, there are many good singers but an actual beautiful voice is less common), go listen to the female half of this duo. The gent is a fine singer and musician too, and his charm and humorous banter especially stood out.
During the intermission, a friend I haven’t seen in several months remarked that I’m skinny or small or somesuch (“nothing to you” may have been her exact words), and I said that might be because I’m not sitting on my ass all day at a desk job.
I didn’t grab a handful of my belly blubber and jiggle it for her to see that I’m more than skin and bones. But I could’ve.