October 1, 1993
Dear Everyone:
Things have been so busy around here that there's not much to talk about
this week. “Jeannie” and I
haven't been to any movies lately. Last
weekend, we did a little early Christmas and speculative birthday
shopping at an outdoor arts and crafts festival; but the weather, which
has been resolutely ignoring the calendar, shot up into the 90s and
drove us back into our air-conditioned homes before long.
Speaking of shopping, a subject close to “Jeannie's” heart, said
“Jeannie” has complained that people might get the impression, from
recent letters, that she is perhaps overly concerned with extracting
every bit of value from each penny she uses (cheap), or that her
inability to refinance her home mortgage means that she is not quite a
productive member of society (deadbeat).
This simply is not true.
It's just that she generates some sort of inherent electromagnetic field
that instantly attracts the nearest Sale table in any store to her.
Naturally, “Jeannie” goes to the
table, because if she didn't, the table would come directly to her,
possibly injuring other shoppers in its haste.
I'm sure that it's related, in
some way, to her unconscious ability to cause clocks to run backwards.
We've been keeping quiet about
this because we don't want government scientists to come and steal her
away in the middle of the night. (If
they did, who would take care of her cats?)
As for the home loan, is it “Jeannie's” fault that banks and other
stuffy institutions are unnaturally suspicious of free spirits who
choose to follow their own path instead of attaching themselves to some
gargantuan corporation?
Of course not.
Meanwhile, back at the (gargantuan corporate) office, I've got projects
piling up on top of projects. They
tend to pull you out of the office a lot; but the office doesn't mind.
It takes messages, receives mail,
and patiently waits until you return (however briefly).
As soon as you come in, it
reports: you have six new phone messages, eight new e-mail "Notes", and,
by the way, you're five minutes late for your next meeting.
Have a Nice Day!
All these projects, with their conflicting, constantly changing
priorities, plus the daily business-as-usual, which you try to squeeze
in between emergencies, can cause a person to feel rather like they are
trying to simultaneously bake a cake, fix a leaky roof, and perform
brain surgery. Inevitably, sooner
or later, you're going to reach for the wrong tool.
"Scalpel…sponge…hammer…oops." You
get the picture.
In a situation like this, there's only one thing to do: take a day off.
That's right, I'm taking Monday
as a vacation day, one of my once-every-four-or-five-weeks
three-day-weekends. My office
will hold down the fort until I get back.
Love, as always,
Pete
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