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Repetitive Motion
Dec. 1st, 2006 07:41 amDifficult week. I have to keep reminding myself that (a) I don't have cancer, and (b) I'm not fighting the commute traffic in downtown Baghdad.
Oh, and (c) – that "success" is a misleading word. We're all equal when we're dead, and sooner or later, everyone dies (see (a) ).
The little store continues to do better than just about every other store on Cannery Row except As Seen on TV and the restaurants, but sadly that's not saying very much. Cannery Row has been a ghost town this past week. We don't get the Christmas rush that other retail villages get, we're strictly a vacationer's impulse buy. I have my repeat customers and that's what's sustained me this past week, that and Internet sales. (I think I may have to redesign the index page of my web site to up our search engine standing.) The new masks came in from Venice. The Plague Doctor is apparently the accessory du jour this year. I've sold quite a few of them.
I'm suffering from a strange ennui that I suppose is total exhaustion. I'm not an ennui kinda gal in general; I don't think I've ever been bored in my life. There are always things to look at, people to observe, strange cosmic riffs to ponder. My To Do buffer is filled to the brim, but I don't actually want to do any of it. Instead I want to lie down, watch television.
The amount of television I've been watching recently is actually kind of frightening to me.
Repetitive motion. That's what it feels like. Like I've been doing the same thing for a very, very long time and my muscles are rebelling.
And if the psyche is a muscle, I suppose that's exactly what it is.
Oh, and (c) – that "success" is a misleading word. We're all equal when we're dead, and sooner or later, everyone dies (see (a) ).
The little store continues to do better than just about every other store on Cannery Row except As Seen on TV and the restaurants, but sadly that's not saying very much. Cannery Row has been a ghost town this past week. We don't get the Christmas rush that other retail villages get, we're strictly a vacationer's impulse buy. I have my repeat customers and that's what's sustained me this past week, that and Internet sales. (I think I may have to redesign the index page of my web site to up our search engine standing.) The new masks came in from Venice. The Plague Doctor is apparently the accessory du jour this year. I've sold quite a few of them.
I'm suffering from a strange ennui that I suppose is total exhaustion. I'm not an ennui kinda gal in general; I don't think I've ever been bored in my life. There are always things to look at, people to observe, strange cosmic riffs to ponder. My To Do buffer is filled to the brim, but I don't actually want to do any of it. Instead I want to lie down, watch television.
The amount of television I've been watching recently is actually kind of frightening to me.
Repetitive motion. That's what it feels like. Like I've been doing the same thing for a very, very long time and my muscles are rebelling.
And if the psyche is a muscle, I suppose that's exactly what it is.
