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March 12, 2000
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organization vs. creativity Attempting to get organized. I'd made a photo of my mom's neighbor's grandchild with the digital camera. I'd printed it on high gloss paper so I'm putting together a package for Mom and Dad. Dad showed me maps I'd printed from DeLorme's AAA Map program showing how to get to the house in Mesquite. He wants the same for his new house. I installed the new version of the program on one of my boxes. Frustrating to install new mapping software and then discover... the Braker extension to Jollyville, surely many years old, isn't mapped. But I get a detailed and a general map showing how to get to their new house from the North. Will their friends stream down IH35 to see them? Some, probably. One couple has already moved to Austin 'to be closer to their children.' All my middle-aged friends seem to have an older relative who is maybe moving out of a home, into assisted living, needs help, etc. etc. My company provides a service to qualify child care providers and elder care providers. Just so you will know your money is well-spent. Some high tech company could hire people with a benefit that gave their parents and children the opportunity for quality, subsidized care centers. Fortunately, my sandwich has no children. I have old folks. And I'm becoming one myself. Trying to get organized then. But I want to be creative. I've stacked up some of the slides for sorting. I've culled the Sunday paper. Everything seems to take longer than I expected. This room is still a disaster area. But the actual content and arrangement changes constantly. I never leave the room, it seems, without a coffee cup. But there always seems to be a dirty one in here. The card table is stacked with stuff. But different piles. Those aren't the same newspapers as the last time I cleaned up. Are they? On display: myself and two friends. Short skirts, shiny pantyhose, clothes that look great under black light. Long hair (me). Thinner, thinner and thinner. Fresh faces. Ah, youth. For the record..we are older but still crazy. Sorting Mom's old slides is amusing. My apologies to my buddies. (Hey...no one much is reading this. Your secret is safe.) SuRu interupts working at home (running a quality assurance regression on some software for our company) to go to brunch with me. Ella's is pleasant and we have a nice talk. A wonderful dinner party this evening. Our friend Allen cooks for four. Besides us there is Don. Don worked for a company bought by Intel. As the evening progresses, we discover that he knows our friend Deb. "She got married in our backyard." "She got married?" Hey, she waited until she was ready. Let's just say she is one year younger than I am and hasn't celebrated her second wedding anniversary yet. I've decided I need to put up a bio of sorts and a cast of characters to give this context. But it isn't going to get done this weekend. I love weekends. I wish they were longer.
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"The chaos
is come of the oraganized disorder, Geroge Barker, First American Ode |
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fashionable youth
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