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I know that some of you will wonder what the heck I was doing on my computer at this time of the night or, better said, of the year. Right now, here, where I reside, people are getting ready to open their champagne bottles and welcome the New Year. Well, I have already done that. I can't be sure if there are still restrictions due to Covid. I don't own a TV set. I haven't owned one in ages, and I don't intend to get one. It takes too much time from my life, and mostly on commercials. I see enough commercials on the Internet. But I digress. The possession of a TV is not essential. Nevertheless, it explains why I am not aware of any restriction concerning going out after ten p.m. So, I opened my bottle of champagne with my family at about ten to get at home before eleven. It was a good bottle: a Dom Perignon. After I took a sip or two, I learned something. That so much praised champagne was wasted on us or, at least, on me. Yes, it tastes good, even though it is somewhat too dry and not as sweet as I prefer my drinks. But I couldn't say anything more about it. Of course, that comes from someone who drinks something once a year - usually on New Year's Eve, so my assessment must be way off. Ignore it, in other words. We had dinner and watched an old movie about a darn cat. We laughed a lot, but that's the sum of the excitement for the year to come. I had more excitement getting to my mum's house. I took a cab, of course. I had promised Rex to get back in three hours max, and he does have a clock hidden somewhere in his mind. He always knows when I am late and makes a lot of noise about it. If I am on time, he is happy to see me, and that's all. Anyways, I knew I was lying this time. It would have been impossible to get back within three hours. Still, I rationalized that a cab there and one back might shave off some of the time. So, let's get back to the drive there. I was lucky enough to have an excellent driver. However, I can't tell you how he steered the wheel. He held his cell phone with one hand, replying to messages on WhatsApp and the other on his thigh, keeping the song's rhythm on the radio. I kept telling myself that I would say something. Maybe ask him to put at least an elbow on the steering wheel, but the words didn't seem to get out of my mouth. We got there in one piece, and that was a relief. I don't think that a pleasant visit to the hospital would have enhanced the quality of the evening. The drive back was peaceful. Nothing seemed to phase the driver. He understood traffic, the parking problems in the city, and everything, to be honest. He accepted everything with serendipity. At ten thirty, I got home. Rex did his usual show - I was late over half an hour, after all. He calmed down and ate his food, asking for a treat afterwards. Well, he was entitled. He had been a good boy this evening. Not so much in the afternoon, but that's water under the bridge. Then the bombing started. It's been over an hour, and believe it or not, it is still going strong. Interesting, though. It's not even midnight. NIne minutes more to go, and 2022 will be welcomed with smoke and noise firecrackers. I wonder what it would say about that. Maybe he would turn his back, thinking it had tried, but it wasn't worth the pain. Who the heck would love to live in such a disruptive world? Forget about climate change and all that bombing would do to the environment. Wow, it's getting louder. I wonder when it'll stop. A year ago, a guy noticed that the country could have been attacked, and everyone would have clapped full of joy. He knew something, though. It sounds like we're under a bomb barrage. I tried to go out. I had the feeling I heard a cat mewing. However, I took only one step out of the house. They came at me from everywhere. I have hardly managed to get cover. That's why this blog is ten minutes late. Well, 2022 must be excited because of this warm welcome. Definitely. I don't think I could say anything more but HAPPY NEW YEAR! MAY ALL YOUR WISHES COME TRUE! I can't think anymore - it's murder outside, and Rex is killing my brains inside. Let's hope you'll hear from me next year. Maybe the house won't go up in flames, though. 
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A post two days in a row, now that's a treat, isn't that? I will try not to spoil you, though. Otherwise, you'll expect to hear from me with a specific frequency, and I'm not so disciplined, to be honest.
These days, my attention span mirrors a butterfly's. I turn here and there without having anything definite in my mind. Of course, I reprimand myself, but that doesn't mean that I get a different result. It's as if I had decided that what happens at the moment is essential. Long-term goals may go down the drain with my wholehearted approval. Anyway, I treated myself with a haircut as I couldn't stand pushing the hair off my face all the time. My face has been itchy and my eyelids puffy for almost two months. It is enough that I have to contend with Rex's shedding. The winter is here, but his shedding season seems to go on. Wasn't it just during spring and autumn? Or did I get that wrong? Anyways, I went to a salon and had my hair cut. I'm pretty satisfied with the result. The lady did try to make me dye my hair, which I refused with determination. She also explained to me how to style my hair every morning. I smiled and nodded acquiescently. I didn't think I would gain points if I had told her that I would generally comb my hair with my fingers. Yesterday, when I met my friend, it took me over twenty minutes to find my comb. I worked hard today. I went through at least six Dry Bar Comedy videos. Only after I had finished with that, I decided to do some real work. I thought to take more advantage of this Sunday and waste some time in bed in the afternoon. Rex came with a toy to play next to me, and that toy kept falling off the bed every three or four minutes. He would whimper and stomp his paw to make me bring it back, which I did a few times. But then, I warned him that he would have to go and take his toy if it fell again, which it did. Then, I merely ignored his whimpering. Whenever he hit me with his paw to draw my attention to his plight, I would pet him and tell him that I loved him. He would spear me with a glance that seemed to say, "You might love me, but not enough to give me my toy back." Well, tough break, pet. Of course, I didn't sleep a wink! It wasn't possible with his jumping on and off the bed and throwing the toy into the air to catch it. Which never happened! My head made contact with it more often than Rex did. Anyway, everything's been fine, I suppose. Nothing to write home about, but all in all, a good day. It would have been much better if I had managed to do some work. But, what the heck, there's another day tomorrow. Hey, there, again
It's been a long week. I could say even a very long week. At times, I've had the feeling that I wouldn't see the end of it. Waking up at six in the morning and then going to bed at around two or four in the morning didn't help either. Right now, I could say that I know how a well-wrung sponge feels. The quest for fixing my central heating has marked this week. But never fear: the struggle is not over. It will continue well in the next one, if not in the next year. After the 23rd, I don't think anyone could find a guy to fix it before the 8th of January. It's been a long string of visits from an expert and another, and each one of them presented a different theory. I have even had two visits a day: one in the morning and another in the evening. I needed that to round the things up nicely. Anyway, in conclusion: no one knows what the heck is wrong with it. So, until I have found someone to fix the problem, I will continue with the regimen of Scottish showers. Worse, the temperature in the house has dropped by quite a few degrees. However, I discovered how to raise the temperature in the bedroom: a good humidifier can offer the illusion of heat. It also helps to breathe, so that is a plus. Rex always had problems with his nose, and the vapours from the humidifier have helped him a lot. There have been other things to top up my evenings, like the work meetings scheduled right after the end of the workday. Still, this evening, I found the cherry on top. You see, I have decided to forget about the many pounds surrounding my body with cushions and treat myself with something sweet. After a week full of disappointments and hard work without a result for the near future, I did need something to cheer me up. So, I ordered two cakes (all right, only one for tonight, the other for tomorrow - I might be a bit airy, but I am not downright stupid). The good news is that the order came half an hour earlier than expected. The bad news is that the guy who brought the order decided to park in the middle of the road. But precisely in the middle, you know. This street is not a peripheral street. There's even a bus that passes by. Imagine the thrill the other drivers felt! It was a lively show. The delivery guy did not even glance at my gate, even though my street number is painted with big paint strokes. No, he decided to admire the opposite side of the road. Well, I tried to attract his attention. Suddenly, the guy starts running in reverse at full speed. I must admit that it was a ballsy move. However, I was not crazy enough to run in the middle of a busy street, especially when the man's move prompted the other drivers to drive erratically. I reckon that I remained nonplussed for a moment and tried to find a solution to my new dilemma. After all, I wanted only to spoil myself with something sweet to forget about the rest of the week and found myself with something else to decide. At first, I thought of going back into the house to take my phone. A call to the reckless delivery guy might have done the trick, even though he seemed determined to drive back from where he had come, running in reverse the whole way. Then, I wondered if I should have bothered. There were only two cakes. My evening wouldn't get much better even with them. Still, mulishly I went inside and took my phone. I returned to the gate, only to see the man returning to his previous parking spot, right there in the middle of the street. So, I merely shouted to make him look at me, and, wow, so much joy, he saw me and got out of his car. I was afraid that the oncoming traffic would flatten him on the pavement. Still, apparently, there were only sober drivers on the road tonight, and none felt the need to obliterate a delivery guy. That doesn't mean that they didn't express their feelings with enthusiasm. The guy gave me the bag, explaining that he had the impression that another woman was standing on the corner at the end of the road. So, he decided to drive to her, thinking that she was I. I asked him sweetly if he had noticed the number on the wall: two large digits, almost shining in the light offered by the lamp street. He admitted he had never looked at them. I inquired then how he thought of delivering something to an address if he didn't check the address. The man assured me that it was enough to look around, and he would undoubtedly spot the right customer. I gave up with a headshake. The man had strong convictions, and nothing coming from me would have changed them. I thanked him from the tip of my lips and left. Of course, Rex took care to make the neighbours happy all this while. Locked in the back yard, my little boy let everyone within a one-mile radius know that someone is at the front gate and that person might have nefarious thoughts. Luckily, it is a Friday night, and people might still linger in front of the TV. That doesn't mean they have not sent blessing thoughts in our direction. They couldn't have refrained themselves. Now, I will devour one of the cakes - it's late, I know. I shouldn't think of it, but right now, I don't give a damn. There's tomorrow to feel guilty if I have to. Hey, there.
Do you ever have those days when you feel like doing nothing, even though you have tons of things to do? You put them aside, but you can't think of anything else that you'd do instead? You tell yourself that big lie: it's the weekend, I shouldn't be working. I should relax, have fun, forget about working for a change. And then, you surf the Internet, looking for something that would lead to that fun thing, and brushing off one thing after another. That film is too ridiculous. That video is too stressful. That music you have heard too many times. In the end, you waste the day away without doing anything. You have had no fun; you've done no work. You're zero to zero in everything. Then you end the day dissatisfied and in a bad mood, cranky that tomorrow is another workday, and you've done nothing to decompress. You promise yourself that you won't be doing the same next weekend, but here you are. Repeating the same mistakes all over again. I don't know why, but during the weekends, I always wake up earlier than during the week. Probably to feel that I am wasting more hours, just doing nothing. That's a strategy as well, for all I know. Perhaps, I need to feel guilty about something, or nothing works out well. Rex did have some fun on Saturday. After snatching the toy I ordered for him for Christmas, he also seized the toy my sister sent to him. He has never had a noisy toy - I can't stand the mewing, pewing, or screeching that such toys do. My sister said that she took care to choose a quiet one. She was mistaken or just wanted to have fun with my nerves. I suspect the latter. Anyway, every time the toy was making a noise, Rex would howl and start shaking it. I thought of taking it away because he was furious, but he didn't want to give it up. Clearly, my little boy needed to win the fight. He imagined that winning meant that the toy would stop talking back. Well, I can assure you that this is one sturdy toy. It's been over twenty-four hours, and the fight is still on. On Saturday, I did not do much besides arbitrating between the dog and the toy. Today, once more, I had to take a Scottish shower. Someone came to fix the central heating on Friday - twice. They came again on Saturday - only once, though. I understand that they need to return on Monday. I still hope to have the chance to remember how it feels to take a hot shower. The memory has become a little fuzzy, I must admit. However, not remembering having a hot shower might not be a problem, but my amygdala and neck had taken a severe beating. They don't want to let me sleep. There was no drizzle outside after a few rainy days, which prompted Rex to make up for the lost time. He barked like crazy and drove me out of my mind. I am pretty sure that my neighbours wanted to strangle him and me simultaneously. Even right now, he is out there, freezing his little paws off and barking his head off. Sometime in the afternoon, I decided to order a soup, feeling too lazy to make something myself. The soup came. It looked good - as much as I could see through the plastic film wrapped on the top. I don't know whose idea was that sealing thing. It was not like it could keep the soup hot. I can vouch for that. And besides, half the soup had spilled all over the kitchen counter by the time I managed to peel that film off. It smelt good, so I decided to take a sip before starting cleaning. I knew the soup would get colder by then, and it did. I ate the remaining half of the soup and called it lunch. I will have to be inventive for dinner. I don't wish to order anything else after the big lunch disappointment. And because I am still keeping the score, another zero to zero this weekend for me. Now, I will ponder a bit and start working on something. Doing nothing is too tiring, and I am sick of being lazy today. For the last few days, I have been thinking of writing two short stories for Christmas: one for McNamara's Christmas and the other for Ian's, the guy from Catching Lily. Well, it is just a thought, but I would love to make it happen. I need only a bit of willpower. However, that's in short supply around here. We'll see if I can mobilize and do it. Until then.... see you. Existential mattersWell, another weekend has almost ended, and one of the thorniest questions of my age keeps bothering me. What the heck have I done all this weekend? On Friday evening, I have made a very detailed plan about everything I would be doing over the weekend. At least, that I know. However, from the planning phase to the putting-into-work phase, something happened. I blame amnesia. Why should I come right out and spell it as it is? As plain laziness? Anyway, the final result is null. You will not believe how inventive I can be to find things to do, just not to do what I am supposed to do. Take my word for that: I am. And once more, I understood that imagining and proposing something doesn't lead to having the thing done, no matter how much you wish for. At least, I have had a good week so far. People praised my last book, Conversations with Rex, despite my feeling that it did not come out just right.  Besides, the Romanian translation followed shortly. Hooray! I will have gifts for my family. They have to love it, right? Yeah, right! I doubt it. It sounds worse in translation than in English. But, hey, that's just my opinion.  The weekend trickled along, just fine, until sunset. Then, the curse of December and the first half of January stroke. People seem to have forgotten about climate change. Or, probably, they never believed that there was one, to begin with. So, they try hard to outdo one another when it comes to fireworks.
Before, you would hear their boom during New Year's Eve. Now, the entire December is dedicated to them. I think they should change the name of the month in Fireworks Month or something. At least, as a courtesy to the ones that didn't know about that custom. Anyway, for me, December has become the barking month. Not only Rex barks like crazy whenever a salve is aimed at the sky - or at least there's where I hope they aim. But also, all the dogs in the neighbourhood start howling like crazy. I understand them, but my ears are almost bleeding. Considering that they already hurt because of the Scottish showers I have been taking for the last week and a half, that's not something I relish. Oh, my shower! I have just discovered that it also has shower mouths overhead and all around besides the regular shower head. Delightful! It's like you are under a waterfall. Not so enjoyable, though, when water comes hot and cold without warning. However, either I get tougher, or it kills me. We'll see who is the strongest of the two. For the moment, I only developed a slight affliction: I'm shivering almost all the time. I am sure it will pass in time, or I might find someone who has an idea about why it behaves like crazy. Eh, until then, I will waste the remaining few hours of my weekend watching YouTube or chasing Rex through the yard when he doesn't want to come in. It will be bracing, but it goes well with the shivering mentioned above. Anyway, it is not like I can't go back to my great plans tomorrow. Still, I do wonder where are the days when I could have worked for twenty hours a day and started all over the following day. Well, there has just been another boom. I have to calm the little beast at the door, barking his head off. See you soon... sometimes... |
ROXANA NASTASEBorn sometime in the past century, living in the 21st century. 
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