Sources of Joy – Day 26
Day 26 – a Friday – started early and stretched itself to the ridiculously late, thus flying in the face of all that it methodical, disciplined, rational and desirable, even.
It was a day to shift mountains, dig deep, travel far and yet stay fixed in one place. It was a day when thoughts had to be flexible, but imagination and day-dreaming constrained.
It was a day during which, despite knuckling down with precision and persistence, I had to break away from a translation (something which I dislike intensely) to finalise some preparatory questions for a meeting next week on the nebulous concept of quality.
I have been blessed with a good memory. This blessing, however, does not look so radiant in the harsh light of my own misgivings which are seldom tempered with the same strict insistence applied to the place of bright colours and where soaring tangential and circuitous thoughts laugh together.
It was not a good day to run out of cigarettes and coffee at night, especially as these two substances form an integral part of my quality control (i.e. editing) process. Still, I managed by eating – at intervals – three pears, a slice of dry bread, and sucking on a ridiculous emergency vapour stick which needlessly and mercilessly exercises all the muscles surrounding one’s lips.
The joy of Friday was postponed to today – Saturday – when I forced myself to focus on what was sadly lacking the night before:
When I returned home after my freedom to contemplate quality a little more from the balcony of my favourite café, I made a rather fatigued attempt at clearing the debris from my work space. I cannot for the life of me figure out how a used teabag found its way onto the lid of a plastic container perched on top of my printer. How extraordinary!