On the Dime

There are reasons for not buying better scotches or better wines.  Afterwards, you must either quit drinking or go broke.  The combination of days off and better whiskey was a bad one.  Not terrible, just bad.  With nothing to do, a three o'clock scotch is not out of the question.  I'm almost glad I am going back to work.  I'm feeling like Freddy Rumsen (1. . .2).

Now that I'm returning to the factory, though, I feel inspired to do all the things I didn't do this weekend.  Why do I have the creative urge now?  Why so enervated when time spilled out before me?

It is a matter of discipline.  I had it once, but time and circumstance. . . .  I won't bother to tell you what I had thought to do.  I won't bother you telling what. . . . .

It is cold and flu season here already.  People are sick.  One must be so careful these days.  It is a matter of proportions, surely.  There is a balance one must obtain.  A well-balanced life.

I don't know.  I'm beginning to feel like I'm living in a film produced by John Waters and directed by Ed Wood.  I was watching reruns of The Lawrence Welk Show trying to remember what normal is.  Was that it?  It, too, looked like a Wood/Waters production.  The Family YMCA seemed a tainted movie set.  I've got to calm down.

This week. . . we'll see.  I'm thinking "routine."  I'll write out a schedule, follow a plan.  Herbal teas and light meals and perhaps some yoga.  But everything on the dime.