I was in Lowell on Friday waiting for some documents to fund so I could record them at the registry. It was down to the wire, but I was able to get on record before they closed up for the day. It was around four thirty by the time I left. As I drove home, I saw that my engine light was on. That is not good, I thought.
The ride home was a bit tense, especially considering I was caught up in a traffic jam almost immediately after I got on the highway. Will I break down, I wondered? I didn't, but it would have been less of an ordeal if I had been closer to home when this happened. I'll have to have the car looked at tomorrow, which sucks because I'll be missing work. Who knows what the problem is; I'm guessing it has to do with a leak, because I've noticed something has been leaving ominous stains where I park at home. We'll see. I'm flat broke, so this could be very interesting. Are the dominoes lined up? Hope not.
Prior to leaving work for Lowell, I found myself worrying about my car. I was certain something was wrong with it and that I'd encounter some trouble on my drive. My car is old and while it's true that it has been behaving for a long stretch now, it still has its issues. So I'm not claiming I had a premonition, but it's possible. Why not?
As a result of increased meditation and a steady routine of yoga, I've been feeling more centered. That's good, because at this shaky point in my life, I need to feel that way. Also been experiencing synchronicity at least twice a day. Sometimes a lot more. For example, I had just been reading about an effective method of tithing and not fifteen minutes later I entered a conversation that was about that very thing. A lot of this type of thing has been happening.
I finished Hamlet the other day and moved on to Henry V, which I've been finding easier to read. The text seems to be less challenging. Maybe I've just gotten better at decoding some of it. My copy of The Lost City of Z arrived in the mail yesterday. Finally. I was beginning to think it was never going to come. I only paid a few bucks for it, so it wouldn't have been a terrible loss, but I was eager to read it. I'm about fifty pages into it and so far it's effin' awesome. Percy Fawcett was Indiana Jones, man.
Went to Spira's art exhibit last night. Full house and good times. Pat and Allie and Pam were in attendance. We all hung out until the end and then I met Spira at her place where we hung out for a bit. And lavished attention on Missy, the recovering, but always lovely, greyhound. She's been beset by hookworms, poor girl. How dare they?
Watched Another Year last night. So good. Mike Leigh knows how portray real people. And the acting....wow! You should check it out. Or not. Maybe you'd rather just sit in front of the TV watching football all day. Have at it, I say!
Having played and watched sports a good chunk of my life, I can understand how people get wrapped up in watching them. I've reached the point where I no longer have much of an interest. For me, they amount to not much more than a distraction. I can't justify spending hours and hours investing myself in something that, at the end of the day, has little bearing on my life.
I remember once a few years ago I was watching a playoff game between the Patriots and the Colts at a former friend's house. It seemed preordained that the Pats would win, but they didn't. I left my friend's house and felt all knotted up on my walk home. My mood became foul. Then it hit me how silly it was that I should be feeling this way. I didn't lose the game, the Patriots did. I determined then to not get emotionally invested in sports. Sure the highs feel great, but where there are highs there are lows. Not worth the roller coaster ride for me. Watching people's reaction to the epic collapse of the Red Sox this season made me feel happy I wasn't wrapped up in that drama.
Ok, I'm off.
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