Dearest Rachel –
One of the problems with spending so much of one’s waking thoughts on a big event in the future is that there’s not much thought being put into what’s going on around one in the present. To be sure, it may well be that most people aren’t trying to document their lives like this, so a.) it doesn’t occur to them that “hey, I don’t have much going on right now in my life” (although, let’s be fair, that’s not so much the issue for any of us as what’s going on is the same stuff as was yesterday, and the day before, and likely tomorrow and the day after as well. Plenty to keep you preoccupied, but literally nothing to write home about), and b.) even if it does, there’s enough ongoing clutter to occupy their mind that it doesn’t bother them. Maybe it’s ever-so-slightly embarrassing to be stuck for an answer when someone asks them about their day, and all they can give in terms of a reply is something along the lines of “oh, you know… same old, same old,” but they can generally take consolation in that the other person is asking out of politeness; they aren’t really wanting a dissertation about the events in your life.
However, since this space is nothing but me telling you about my day, it bothers me when I’m at a loss. And yes, I could probably skip a day or two from time to time – especially when I’ve been half-sick like right now (and that’s the best way to describe this; I’m feeling okay, even good, during the day, but as night falls, all the symptoms come flooding back, and the only way to get a decent night’s sleep is to dose myself with Nyquil or something like that. It’s really weird) – but you remember from your days of religiously checking in to play Candy Crush or Gardens of Time how psychologically necessary it is to keep up a streak. Heck, I’m disappointed in myself for having to go yesterday without showing up at Dad’s bedside, despite clearly knowing it was the right thing to do. This, I can do without necessarily having to even get up out of bed, so I don’t have the excuse not to keep it up.
But what is there to tell you about? I mean, when the sun was out, and I was feeling as close as I could expect to fine, I got out and took care of our property tax bill (one less thing to worry about Daniel having to deal with) as well as the monthly stipend to Twofeathers (not to mention prepping the checks – complete with future dates – for the next three months). I even managed to get myself that haircut I’ve been needing for months – sure, they have a spa and salon aboard the ship (and they did a pretty good job when I went to them on the Odyssey of the Seas), but why bother with the extra expense, especially when there’s not that much to cut at any given time to begin with?
As long as I’m talking about ships, I did pull about fifteen T-shirts for me to pack yesterday – only to completely forget about folding them and putting them in the suitcase. Why, I haven’t even brought the suitcase up from the basement in order for me to pack it! And it probably shouldn’t surprise you that doing the laundry also slipped my mind; it’s really not the sort of thing I want to be doing when I’m hanging out with Daniel, and what frees me up to think about the task is when Logan shows up, and the boys turn to watch their own media, at which point, taking him aside to show him how to wash his own clothes is out of the question.
Of course, those are all preparations for the future; they have nothing to do with the here and now, because the present (at least, the part of the present in which I’m conscious and ambulatory) is taken up with that same future. What’s going on right now; what is there to talk to you about, aside from what hasn’t happened yet? I’m frustrated about the fact that there really isn’t much.
Maybe I shouldn’t be, honey. After all, most days are like this for most people; why should it bother me that this would be the case for me as well, especially when I’m not entirely well? Sometimes, you’ve got to shrug your shoulders, and get through the day at hand in order to get to the next, and the next, and the next, until suddenly, you’re right where you want to be, in the middle of the excitement you hoped for – but you had to slog through a whole lot of dull, repetitious nothing in order to get here. Life’s like that; although it occurs to me that, to the folks whose job it is to generate that sort of exciting atmosphere (say, program directors on a ship?), is it possible that their workaday world feels routine and boring to them? I mean, sure, they’d deny it up and down if you asked them to their face, but I wonder if, in their heart of hearts, whether there is a certain aspect of monotony to even what they do, and that one day passes indistinguishable from the one before, to the point where they would have just as much trouble relating their daily lives as I do now.
Or maybe I’m trying too hard to template their lives on mine. Who knows?
Anyway, boring or not, I have to get on with my day. Keep an eye on me, honey, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 