I Know What the Flat Coyote Thinks

Today tastes like pine resin, tar, and raw chicle. Chewy, but hard to recommend.

It feels like I’ve been living this last week in my “sunshine”—as opposed to my Jungian shadow. I find that I’m longing for the cool, moist, chthonic surfaces of the underground. There’s too much light and heat here for comfort. Where to begin; how did I end up on top of this red rock? (There is shadow under this red rock, Mr. Eliot, there is indeed.)

Well, it all began when work went tsunami on me. It does that with regularity. Usually I just clamber up on whatever flat piece of flotsam presents itself and surf on in, working a little more efficiently, with a little more focus. It calms down and smoothes out eventually, and I may need to stay a little late once or twice, but no big deal.

Not this time. I’ve put in two fifty hour weeks back to back, and First Consort Gareth keeps a picture handy so he won’t forget what I look like. Of course, that picture doesn’t take the new haircut into account, which probably explains the copious amounts of whiteout on the glass.

There is light at the end of the tunnel. It’s probably a freight train.

Then this past Saturday, Mayhem was throwing a housewarming party, and she realized she was well over her head (having never thrown a successful party before) Thursday night. So she called for help with menu planning, and shopping, and cooking planning, and oh botherall. We got together Friday night, and ran around getting set up foodwise. She had originally planned a tea party for her housewarming (insert interrobang here) but then realized the kind of work involved in getting the atmosphere together—boxes as settees do not contribute to the tea party feeling unless you have Tenniel drawing pictures.

So, Saturday morning we drove on over, helped with last minute food prep, and enjoyed the party itself, the after-party party, and finally left in the wee hours of the morning. With plans, of course, to meet for dim sum the next day, because a cheap feast that comes to you is the perfect cap for a party.

Sunday morning, we met for dim sum, and then I wanted to go fabric shopping for cheap brocade for beaded ATC’s. Off we went to the fabric store, where we found lots of gadgety goodies for Mayhem, the newbie quilter, but no brocade for me. Wah. Mayhem then told me that a store whose west side branch I had long enjoyed now had an outlet just a few miles from my house. (She’s been holding out on me . . . no cards for you!) So I got what I needed, and then we decided to check out a movie—Robots, the new one from Pixar. Cute, funny, but not a full-price movie.

So Sunday evening, after some teenage drama angst (that’s one thing about getting older. It’s no longer ALL ABOUT YOU.) we did our weekly shopping and other routine chores that have gone waaaaaayyyy by the wayside (henceforth “the waaaaayyyyyside.” Perhaps this blog needs its own FAQ . . .)

A brief nap, and then Monday morning! Time for workies! And five long days until Friday, when I might actually have time to do things on my agenda. A whole weekend with friends is delightful, but far too rich for everyday consumption.