follow the feelings, probably part 1

     Most of the time, the quiet of my life suits me fine. Guilty fine, though: I constantly feel like I'm getting away with something. Is it okay that I'm not as busy as everyone else? Shouldn't I be making more of a contribution to the world? Is how I'm living okay? I feel kind of bad about liking my quiet life. Everyone else, including the beloved spouse, is working around the clock. Not me.

     Oh, I would not say I am idle. I get things done. Last week I made a menorah for some friends who are getting married. This small project involved a long walk on the cold beach, searching for a piece of driftwood with a flat bottom and an upraised knot that could hold the shamash, a trip to the arts and crafts store to find that they don't carry candle cups, a search on the internet for candle cups (this could be a blog entry in itself, but I'm too busy, as you can see), research on what makes a kosher menorah and what gets the observant eye-roll, extensive study of the Martha Stewart photo example of a driftwood menorah, measuring out the holes and remembering that 9 candles doesn't mean you divide the length by 9 so you measure again, finding your largest drill bit just won't work and that it's hard to hold a piece of driftwood steady while you drill into it. Shall I start a new sentence? Let's do. Tracking down someone who might be willing to loan you a gigunda drill bit, getting ahold of that, drilling the holes, making sure they're as level as possible so the candle cups aren't tilted, realizing that now the holes are too big for the candle cups, cleaning up sawdust and bits of driftwood throughout the kitchen, which is just a way of stalling since you've just drilled holes that are too big, which is so much worse than too small. Going to Lowe's to ask for advice, buying screws and washers and screwing them into the bottom of the cups, which is a perfect and clever solution for which you thank the Lowe's guy so warmly he seems startled, putting a few coats of paint on the finished product, and then dropping off the drill bits with a thank-you note attached. Oh, yes. I get things done.

But then there is this:

     Laura's school has a driver service. In New York City, United States, this is not amazing. It makes more sense for the School to pay for a service than to reimburse people for parking and travel between campuses. Right? So of course you have a shiny car and friendly driver that's waiting for you just like your assistant set up for you. And of course you get out of the car and don't ever have to pay. I get that.
     Hm? My day? Normal. A few clients. Oh, Juni had her vet appointment. Yep. She's fine. There's a little tartar on her teeth. They're going to send an estimate.
     CEO of what? She did? You said that? Did she laugh? That's so great, hon. Wow.
     I had a new client no show today. I know, right?
     You guys ate there? I read a review of that in the Times. Supposed to be great. Oh, that sounds fabulous!
     Hey, hope it's okay that I'm roasting the last of the frozen butternut squash tonight. I'm kind of glad to put all that past us.
     Sure, I remember that movie. That guy? Is he nice? Yeah, it seems like he would be, you know? What grade is his kid in?
     You wouldn't believe the line at the post office today. I was mailing Yani her belt. I saw that Porter's parent from down the road who's always so nice; remember her? Can't remember her name. Right; her. She said to say hi. Her cousin went to Fieldston.