Thursday, June 02, 2005

Why I would make a lousy Buddhist

Even were I able to lay to rest my struggle with the whole "desire is the root of all suffering" thing, I would make a lousy Buddhist. This is what I'm thinking about as I prepare to leave tomorrow.

Here's how it goes for me: Okay, it's past the first of the month, so I have to pay rent. But of course, to do that, I have to balance my checkbook. And then there are those other bills that are late... and the trash to take out... and I have to call the catsitter...

And then the work things: Do I have the projector? Does it work okay with my laptop? Did the boxes make it to the hotel? And those last minute adjustments to the session profiles--they need doing...

Do I have enough cat food? Did I remember to pack my coffee and filters? Do I have time to vacuum my apartment? For that matter, I should probably do those twelve things I've been putting off for six months. Because even though they've been on my to-do list for six months, they really can't wait the eleven days I'll be gone.

Are you getting the picture? It's tough to be me--that's what I'm trying to say. Be grateful you don't have to carry my brain around in your cranium. You'd be an insomniac too.

And here's the really ironic thing: I'm actually a great spontaneous traveler. I've had enough traveling mishaps (and fiascos) that I don't stress much at all once I've locked my apartment door behind me. There's little that a credit card and a measure of patience can't extricate me from, I know this.

Anyway, so I'm going to Florida tomorrow for work, and then from there to DC and possibly NYC (if I'm feeling recharged enough and it's not pouring--yes, I know; I've been completely corrupted by LA). I'll be online sporadically and will post when possible, but will be spending most of my time interacting face-to-face in the fleshly world. If I go to the Toulouse-Lautrec exhibit or the National Museum of the American Indian, I promise to let you all know how they were.



(And if I go to New York, I'll post a picture the shoes I will inevitably buy on 8th Street.)

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