She sat in the plush velvet chair accompanied only by flickering candle light, the ticking of the mantel clock and her imagination. She read a story written a hundred years ago of unsettled ghosts and the humans they tormented. The candles cast menacing shadows against the walls which would catch her eye between the lines of the story. Tick tick tick tick tick said the clock like a metronome. She could no longer separate herself from the terror of the words she read. What was that? Did she hear the cat stalking in the next room or was a spirit nearby to pay her a gruesome visit? She was so paralyzed with fear she couldn’t bring herself to find out. Ah, the thrill of a horror story.
Archive for February, 2013
For the last week at the day job there has been some redecorating going on. With redecorating comes workmen, and not the kind of workmen you’d prefer to see for eight to nine hours a day.
The bothersome thing was they seemed oblivious to the fact that they were working in occupied space. They had no qualms about shouting to each other from across the suite. They took heavy piles of carpet tiles and dropped them to the floor instead of placing them. They huddled around the glue-drying fan and had conversations at a level that had to exceed the already loud noise of the fan, with no regard to the fact that people like me had to concentrate on our jobs too. Then there came that point where I just had to leave, as in leave the building ~ I got a straight-on view of a giant plumber’s butt. All of the noise and chaos distracted me so much I could barely do my job, but I had to draw the line when there was a bad moon on the rise at 1:00 in the afternoon.
I really hope today is less cheeky, in all senses of the word.
Husby and I were at a craft show where we met a bunch of people right away. There were two couples working together, two guys working together, and one other guy who was hanging out with one of the couples. I remember the women’s names, Gwen and Kate. I can’t remember the guys’ names.
The show was set up on a marina and in the adjacent park. I was amazed that my assigned space was actually on one of the boats in the marina. So very cool, and nice that I didn’t have to set up a canopy as everything could be set up under the cover of the boat. Husby and I set up right away and even though the show didn’t start until the next day lots of people were stopping by to see what I had to offer.
At one point I came to an uncomfortable realization. I took Gwen aside and said, “I’m so embarrassed, but could you tell me what state we’re in?” I would have asked Husby but he was off swimming. Gwen looked at me like I was crazy and didn’t even answer me, as if I didn’t deserve to know. Such a premiere show and she doesn’t even know what state she’s in?
I decided it didn’t matter, but as Husby and I were sitting around with these seven other people we had met I asked again. “What state are we in?” One of the men responded “New Orleans.” I looked at him and clicked my tongue. “New Orleans isn’t a state, and besides, if I was in New Orleans I’d know, and this isn’t it” It was at that point I knew these people weren’t going to be my friends if they couldn’t even help me out in my addle-minded condition.
Husby and I went back to the boat slip where my display was set up. To my horror the entire boat was gone. Gone! Gone with all of my products!
At that point I woke up. I likened this dream to those where you go to school and realize you have no clothes on, or forgot your locker combination. I never did find out what state we were in, and when I relayed the dream to Husby he said “I think you were in the state of confusion.” Ha ha.
Am I having craft show anxiety? Am I having social interaction anxiety? Am I having house boat anxiety? I’m not really sure, but I am sure the dream is anxiety-based.
Funny, I don’t feel anxious in my waking state, but maybe I should pay attention to my subconscious. First order of business is to be sure to know what state I’m in when at a craft show. Secondly, don’t trust being set up on someone else’s boat.
Here’s to a week devoted to researching shows to do in the 2013 season.
Happy President’s Day everyone! Counting today I’ll have spent a week away from the day job. Seems like it’s been forever; I don’t know if that’s good or bad. The week in review:
1. Husby and I spent two days at a retirement seminar offered by my day job. Yes, that’s right, I’m gearing up for retirement. It won’t be for a while yet but it’s smart (and exciting) to plan early. I started my work as a public servant when I was very young so it follows that I will be able to retire when I’m very young. Throughout the seminar I was reminded of all the great benefits offered to me which will be continued even after I stop working. I guess all those years of getting up before the crack of dawn and trudging through the dreary and sometimes depressing days at my job are finally going to pay off. Free at last, free at last. Thank God Almighty I’m free at last. Well, not quite yet, but the light at the end of the tunnel seems a lot brighter now.
2. Day two of the seminar fell on Valentine’s Day. I hope it was a lovey one for all of you. Husby and I don’t make too big a deal out of the day ~ we exchange cards and either go out for dinner or make a special meal at home. As we were out at the seminar already we decided to stop and have something to eat after we were done for the day. We beat the Valentine’s Day rush and had a very satisfying meal at Joe’s Crab Shack. Nothing says love like a big pot of shellfish.
3. I took Friday off from the day job because it just didn’t make sense to go in after being away for two days and having a long weekend ahead of me. My boss agreed it would be foolish to break up so much away time. (I like a boss who thinks like that.) I did some laundry, and of course some house cleaning. The day was also filled up with lots of donking around on the computer.
4. I felt like cooking up a pot of chili and some cornbread. My mom made some cornbread for the Mardi Gras party she hosted the weekend before and it was so good I wanted some more. The chili turned out pretty good, but the cornbread? Yuck. I used a recipe in one of my oldest cookbooks and it turns out they didn’t make sweet cornbread back in the olden days. It called for only one teaspoon of sugar. I thought that was strange when I was making it, but then thought my trusty book couldn’t be wrong. Come to find out most other recipes call for at least one-quarter cup of sugar. That’s what, twelve times more than I used? What were you thinking, Miss Crocker?
5. I got caught up with my magazine reading. The issues went all the way back to September, and now I’m in the Christmas spirit for reading the December issues of my favorite publications.
6. I did lots of writing. I’m doing that a lot these days, mostly in the form of rambling nothings on my super secret private blog, but also the beginnings of a story. I also started a few posts for this blog. Husby and I shared a most delightful evening this weekend sans TV or even music, quiet except for the ticking of the cuckoo clock and the crackle of a fire in the fireplace He read a book and I wrote. I imagined that’s what we’d be doing if we lived in a little shack in the middle of Alaska, or if we lived a hundred years ago. It seemed so contrary to what we normally do during the evening hours, but it was also a relief in a way. Quiet, still nights are my favorite.
To keep you from being too bored with the trivial details of my weekend, suffice it to say I did what anyone would do with lots of time on her hands ~ anything I wanted. After spending two days learning about retirement I spent a lot of time wondering if my retirement days would be like the long weekend had been. I kind of hope not, because I wasn’t too productive. On the other hand, I was very relaxed and didn’t bother to feel guilty about not being productive.
It’s back to the old grind tomorrow. Back to serving the public and feeling like I don’t have enough free time to do the things I really want. It won’t be long though, before every evening will be “good old Friday night.”*
*”Good old Friday night” was something my dad used to say when he was working full-time. In my mind I hear him saying that almost every Friday when I drive home from work for the weekend.