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L’Shana Tova
Oct. 3rd, 2024 08:28 amL’shana tova.
I did nothing yesterday but attempt to patch together lost Remuneration.
Well.
Not quite true: Whenever I needed a break, I scampered downstairs & cleaned—washing floors, scrubbing sinks, polishing tables.
Spawn-mother Christine who popped by to pick up something of Dante’s exclaimed, “I have never seen this place looking so clean before!”
###
Outside was unrelentingly dreary & grey, and I had no desire whatsoever to spend any time in it. Dreary & grey & cold—I actually turned on the heat in the Patrizia-torium after I finally realized that my shakes were not my usual post-synthroid/pre-prandial tremors but actual shivering caused by frigid temperatures.
I’m mad at myself because I can’t seem to pound out 10,000 words at a single sitting.
How much easier my life would be if I could activate the burble button!
But 2,000 words a day seems to be my limit. This kind of writing is not something I can easily lose myself in.
###
Anyway. I will pound out my 2,000 word quota this morning.
And in the afternoon, when the sun is actually supposed to come out, I will venture out to the Wallkill River to cast away my sins—disguised as pieces of raisin pumpernickel bread from Cohen’s Bakery, one of the last surviving remnants of Ellenville’s Borscht Belt glory days.
I may be a feral Jew, but I am a Jew!!!
I did nothing yesterday but attempt to patch together lost Remuneration.
Well.
Not quite true: Whenever I needed a break, I scampered downstairs & cleaned—washing floors, scrubbing sinks, polishing tables.
Spawn-mother Christine who popped by to pick up something of Dante’s exclaimed, “I have never seen this place looking so clean before!”
###
Outside was unrelentingly dreary & grey, and I had no desire whatsoever to spend any time in it. Dreary & grey & cold—I actually turned on the heat in the Patrizia-torium after I finally realized that my shakes were not my usual post-synthroid/pre-prandial tremors but actual shivering caused by frigid temperatures.
I’m mad at myself because I can’t seem to pound out 10,000 words at a single sitting.
How much easier my life would be if I could activate the burble button!
But 2,000 words a day seems to be my limit. This kind of writing is not something I can easily lose myself in.
###
Anyway. I will pound out my 2,000 word quota this morning.
And in the afternoon, when the sun is actually supposed to come out, I will venture out to the Wallkill River to cast away my sins—disguised as pieces of raisin pumpernickel bread from Cohen’s Bakery, one of the last surviving remnants of Ellenville’s Borscht Belt glory days.
I may be a feral Jew, but I am a Jew!!!
