And perhaps it's also because today, March 6, is the coldest day since January, with a high temperature that didn't even reach freezing. It's March. I want Spring. I want to see forsythia and cherry blossoms. Most of the blooming season for the cherry blossoms overlaps with my trip, so I might miss them. The forsythia hangs on for a little longer, but not much longer. Fleeting. Everything is fleeting. Everything is moving too quickly.
Anyway, I should go to Mass. I don't have to go to Mass, but I should. And that's Lent for you. A lot of sacrifices that you don't HAVE to make, but you SHOULD. I miss chocolate already.
*****
So I did decide to go to Mass. In fact, I'm sitting in the parking lot, having arrived 20 minutes early. This is how I do my job and raise my children and compulsively clean my house and still have time to read and write: 20 minutes in the parking lot.
*****
*****
So I did decide to go to Mass. In fact, I'm sitting in the parking lot, having arrived 20 minutes early. This is how I do my job and raise my children and compulsively clean my house and still have time to read and write: 20 minutes in the parking lot.
*****
Thursday, Day 2. There were four priests distributing ashes last night, and I picked the sloppy guy. Few people are more aware that they come from dust and will thence return than I, so I probably didn't need a whole shovel full of last year's incinerated palm branches. I came home from Mass looking like a coal miner. But a little soap and water, and I was right as rain.
I'm on hold with Aer Lingus now. It's been 30 minutes and 54 seconds. So I'm going to multi-task, because that is what I do.
I have a Pixel 2 phone. I like it but it has its little quirks like every other phone. For example, when you choose the phone application (who knows why we even call them "phones" anymore, because it's the least frequently used option), it's hard to actually see how to make a call. All of the options (recents, favorites, search contacts) display across the bottom of the screen. You have to look carefully to find the little keyboard icon that allows you to actually dial a number that you don't already have stored.
Meanwhile, like most business concerns, Aer Lingus does its darnedest to prevent people from calling them on the phone. You can search their helpful FAQs, and you can chat with a helpful agent (or maybe a chatbot), but you have to really dig to find a phone number. Once you find the phone number and dial it (assuming you can find your phone's keyboard), and maneuver your way through the automated call distribution options, you hold for a while. If you're me, you write about it, as it's happening. Don't ever say that I don't cover the news live.
******
It's Friday now. Day 3. Yesterday's phone calls (to Aer Lingus and Visa) were part of a herculean push to cross off every item on a very long to-do list. I'm almost finished. It's been a busy week, and my reluctance to do just one thing at a time has nearly brought me to ruin on more than one occasion. Last night, I hurriedly tossed taco shells onto a baking sheet that was balanced precariously on the edge of the counter. I should move that, I thought, dismissing the thought almost immediately and then fortunately reacting quickly enough as the thing tilted over and nearly clattered to the floor. In me vs. gravity competition, gravity is nearly undefeated, but I won that round.
*****
Saturday, Day 4. I can tell what time of year it is because the annual bout with depression and anxiety is upon me once again. I don't want to write about it. So I'll write about what I'm reading, which is Masha Gessen's The Future is History. I've read about one-third of this pretty long book, and I can't put it down. Gessen, a journalist and native Russian, writes about post-Soviet Russia through the personal stories of four Russians who were children during the events of 1991. I read Anna Politkovskaya's A Russian Diary a long time ago. Although Masha Gessen is just as vehement a critic of Vladimir Putin as Politkovskaya (who was murdered for writing the truth about Putin), she is a more effective storyteller, just as good at the micro, personal, biographical detail as the macro, socio-political analysis. It's a very good book.
*****
It's Sunday, Day 5 and the first day of Daylight Savings Time. I don't like to lose an hour of sleep any more than the next person, but I love an extra hour of daylight at the end of the day. My news feed is filled with the annual stories about the health and safety impact of a whole already sleep-deprived country losing another hour of sleep, complete with the usual prediction and/or recommendation that the whole idea of Daylight Savings Time will or should go away. I don't remember ever not having twice-yearly time changes, and it really never occurred to me until a few years ago that it was a thing that could or should change.
I probably sleep less than most people, so an hour once a year isn't going to hurt me. And when I think about it, I actually like the idea of a twice-yearly reset. So I'd rather keep the March and October time changes. I suppose I don't get a vote, though.
*****
Saturday, Day 4. I can tell what time of year it is because the annual bout with depression and anxiety is upon me once again. I don't want to write about it. So I'll write about what I'm reading, which is Masha Gessen's The Future is History. I've read about one-third of this pretty long book, and I can't put it down. Gessen, a journalist and native Russian, writes about post-Soviet Russia through the personal stories of four Russians who were children during the events of 1991. I read Anna Politkovskaya's A Russian Diary a long time ago. Although Masha Gessen is just as vehement a critic of Vladimir Putin as Politkovskaya (who was murdered for writing the truth about Putin), she is a more effective storyteller, just as good at the micro, personal, biographical detail as the macro, socio-political analysis. It's a very good book.
*****
It's Sunday, Day 5 and the first day of Daylight Savings Time. I don't like to lose an hour of sleep any more than the next person, but I love an extra hour of daylight at the end of the day. My news feed is filled with the annual stories about the health and safety impact of a whole already sleep-deprived country losing another hour of sleep, complete with the usual prediction and/or recommendation that the whole idea of Daylight Savings Time will or should go away. I don't remember ever not having twice-yearly time changes, and it really never occurred to me until a few years ago that it was a thing that could or should change.
I probably sleep less than most people, so an hour once a year isn't going to hurt me. And when I think about it, I actually like the idea of a twice-yearly reset. So I'd rather keep the March and October time changes. I suppose I don't get a vote, though.
*****
Tuesday, Day 7 (I skipped a day). I leave for Ireland in a few days. My before-trip to-do list, nearly crossed off a few days ago, has grown by a few items; and the things I thought I needed to take don't all fit into my bags. So I need to either find a bigger bag, or leave some things behind.
I have this long-cherished idea of myself as an insouciant wanderer who throws a few things (any old things) into a bag (any old bag) and just takes off without another thought. The "any old things" and "any old bag" parts are not likely to happen, but the "few things" part is achievable, with some planning. Yes, I realize that planning is not necessarily compatible with insouciance, but one has to start somewhere.
Actually, I don't really care at all about traveling light for its own sake.
See what I did there?
But really, it's a matter of practicality. We'll be traveling within as well as to Ireland, and when I think about how much weight I'm willing to drag around with me, the answer is not very much. I have two bags. I'm going to figure out how to get everything I need into those two bags. Failing that, I'm going to figure out how to need only the things that I can fit in those bags.
*****
Wednesday. One week down. I don't generally like to count down days or weeks. It's like wishing away your life. But I do count down the days until the end of Lent.
It's much warmer now than it was a week ago, and the extra hour of daylight more than compensates for the loss of an hour's worth of sleep. It doesn't, however, compensate for the loss of chocolate. Spring giveth and it taketh away.
Five more weeks. Next post from Dublin. Go dtí an tseachtain seo chugainn.
Tuesday, Day 7 (I skipped a day). I leave for Ireland in a few days. My before-trip to-do list, nearly crossed off a few days ago, has grown by a few items; and the things I thought I needed to take don't all fit into my bags. So I need to either find a bigger bag, or leave some things behind.
I have this long-cherished idea of myself as an insouciant wanderer who throws a few things (any old things) into a bag (any old bag) and just takes off without another thought. The "any old things" and "any old bag" parts are not likely to happen, but the "few things" part is achievable, with some planning. Yes, I realize that planning is not necessarily compatible with insouciance, but one has to start somewhere.
Actually, I don't really care at all about traveling light for its own sake.
See what I did there?
But really, it's a matter of practicality. We'll be traveling within as well as to Ireland, and when I think about how much weight I'm willing to drag around with me, the answer is not very much. I have two bags. I'm going to figure out how to get everything I need into those two bags. Failing that, I'm going to figure out how to need only the things that I can fit in those bags.
*****
Wednesday. One week down. I don't generally like to count down days or weeks. It's like wishing away your life. But I do count down the days until the end of Lent.
It's much warmer now than it was a week ago, and the extra hour of daylight more than compensates for the loss of an hour's worth of sleep. It doesn't, however, compensate for the loss of chocolate. Spring giveth and it taketh away.
Five more weeks. Next post from Dublin. Go dtí an tseachtain seo chugainn.
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