Apr 20, 2011

Want Milk With That?

The past few weeks have been increasingly challenging as my school work ramps up.  The assignments are stimulating and not overburdensome, but they do take some time.

I spend much of my time worrying about time.

I'm not sure if it is a function of being old(er) or pathetically out of shape (or both), but small things take more out of me.  Earlier this week, I spent part of the day at the client's site.  The few hours of being "on" just wiped me out.  I mean my tank was on E.  Not half-full.  Not low.  E.  As with the school work, I love interacting with clients, but there is a price to pay.  And it is higher than it once was.  Like my laptop, I take longer to recharge than I used to, run down faster, and make a lot of loud, grumbly noises of protest.

Tonight is a beautiful evening:  high 70's, light wind, glowing sunset and all of spring just bursting in color.  I picked fresh arugula and spinach from my garden, ate some leftover pasta, and while feeling completely put upon, tried to relax by the TV.  I got caught up in a show on the Independent Lens about garbage pickers in Brazil.  They "work" at the dump collecting recyclables, which they trade in for money.  All of the women interviewed for the show spoke of the pride they feel in this honest work and, in spite of the smell, were grateful they had an option besides prostitution.

And here I sit, feeling so beleaguered by my homework, while I eat fresh produce, a home-cooked meal, and ponder what my well-stocked kitchen might contain for a little dessert. I think I'll have a slice of humble pie.

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