Rules Of Acquisition

About a month ago I met a really nice customer at my store named Sue and we struck up a lengthy conversation about 60's garage rock acts like Arthur Lee, Love, and The Seeds. She told me she was a waitress at Bobbywood, which used to be one of my most favorite restaurants in downtown Norfolk, and I told her, "But Sue, Bobbywood closed down years ago. I was going to take my father there for his birthday once and when I called to make reservations I discovered that they had shut down." Well, she tells me, Bobby is back in business as of just a few months ago, with some new primo real estate on Montecello Avenue down from The Norva, and it's all the same (amazing, delectable, mouth-watering) menu. So seeing as yesterday was my father's birthday, I made reservations, just like I had planned all those years ago to introduce my worldy pops to the place. And it was still just as incredible as ever. I can still practically taste the spices from my etouffee deep in my sinuses, just like it always did when I ordered it back in The Day. And I thanked Sue profusely while I was there. Maybe I should make her a mix disk.

So, it's my final day of vacation. And I feel pretty good. Well rested, to be sure, seeing as how I couldn't have spent a more boring week at home. But I thought a lot of things out, exorcised some demons held over from last spring, stopped picking at my grief scab so it has a chance to heal, and pretty much decided to Move On. And I'm already beginning to, as 10cc once said, feel the benefit. I like this feeling. It reminds me of when I got back from Los Angeles last spring, fully shed of my anxieties from earlier that year. Some of those issues I feel still exist in some ghostly shadow over my relationship with my best friend, but I believe deep down I've done what I can to mend things and just let her know I'm here for her if she needs me. And if she doesn't need me, then I must learn to accept that as well. Like all my friends I've lost touch with over the years for one reason or another, I can only love them privately and wish them the best of everything in their lives.

And work? Work is still going to be work. I love my job, but I still worry about it and where it's all going in the end. At least I've had a week off to decompress before it's once more unto the breach again. But I think now's the time to start seriously cracking down and getting back on the ball and any and all such related metaphors. I've shed my skin of excuses against a rock like a snake and left it behind in one long crinkly tubular... looking... bleach. But that is also a good thing! No more sitting on my ass, on my hands, on my, uh, dignity. Watch out, world! I'm putting on my serious, industrial-strength, bitch-means-business bra! (we ladies all got one, ya know)