Anything I wanted to know, anyplace I needed to go

I'm lighter in the wallet, but not too, too much (I'll get to why in three shakes of a lamb's tail) and I can say even still and without sarcasm that it was a fine day. I was out of the office for a good chunk of it and my time there was spent being productive and resourceful, something I believe even the powers that be would agree on. Or perhaps they considered my day an absolute fiasco, a vile thing that began with the faint odor of smoke and ended up a conflagration. Perhaps. But look: I don't give a fuck, I really don't. What I'm dying to do is carry on with this post. Please allow me to; I'd like to finish it some time tonight. That is a desire of mine. A yearning.

Anyway

 So the day glided along the breeze; there was no trudging, no sense of exertion. Even when my "check engine" light came on during my drive back to work from the Salem registry, I wasn't that bothered. I had a sense that whatever repairs I needed wouldn't end up being too costly. Or maybe it had more to with the way I've been feeling. Since I've emerged from those grim, turbulent days that gang raped my life, I've taken on a calmer, more even-keeled vibe. It's the new me, everyone! And this time it's personal.

The whole business with the car didn't last very long. I decided to leave it with Sam, who owns the garage adjacent to my office. I had considered taking the car to my mechanic in Somerville, but that would have required missing work and a delay in knowing what was wrong with it. This way would be better.

Turned out I needed a sensor for my oxygen converter (yeah, I don't know either) and an oil change was recommended. Cost me nearly three hundred smackers, but I was glad it was taken care of quickly and at not too great an expense. And I was happy to have the oil changed because one was due.

I came home to a clean house. At first, I didn't believe my eyes, but the place was tidy, even smelled nice. Seems Matt found the ambition to clean and it was such a welcome sight to lay my eyes upon the fruits of his labor, I nearly dropped to my knees and wept (I didn't, though, because the one area he didn't clean was the floor). If I hadn't already issued them all to myself for being such a cool guy, I would have awarded Matt a gold sticker for his efforts. I would have adhered it to his forehead like it was part of an ancient occult ceremony.

I am still grieving my father's passing. It has not been easy. No need to elaborate.

It's off with me, but before I go let me share with you a dream I had the other night. It was very brief. I was camping and it was a warm, sunny morning. I entered my tent and gently roused the infant I was taking care of (I got the sense it wasn't my baby, more likely a friend's). The boy smiled at me as I gently tickled it. I felt so much love for him, it was almost overwhelming. I remember thinking  Holding a baby is a hell of a lot different than looking at a picture of one. I woke up and still felt that love, only now it had coalesced with the realities of the temporal world.

The dream reminded me how enriching life can be. I'm not sure if I'll ever have children, but, man, being around that baby felt pretty, pretty good.

Off to go listen to music. I'll probably bounce between the new Deerhoof, King Sunny Ade, Zach Hill, Genesis's The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway and Glenn Branca. And I'll read, too. The three books I've been giving attention to are engrossing and if I'm away from them too long I start to get the shakes.

Good night, orphans.