Home Life

Pop is at Kay's place, and for a longer period than usual. It's only Monday, and he said that he does not expect to return until Thursday. I have a feeling, though, that he misspoke, perhaps thinking that today is Tuesday. In any case, it is an unexpected and happily received break, though I also worry about what it might cost. I get the impression that Kay has become more aggressive about seeing what she can get from Pop. The last time she was here, I overheard her asking what Pop is doing for money, considering all the groceries that we get and his general Big Daddy routine, practically asking for his tax returns and financial statements. It's a question I have been curious about myself, of course: how does he do it? I didn't hear Pop's answer.

Writing Life

I have been dealing with a strong hankering to take my memo pads and start spilling my stream of conscious into them. It would be a throwback to the 90s. I would write as though I were getting paid a dollar for every word I put down without regard to quality or even coherency, as though no thought or observation should slip past my pen unwritten. One idea is that it might keep me more engaged with my day, might help keep me sane, creating a stronger illusion of having a friend at my side, since writing is always a performance, with its suggestion that there is an audience, a reader, even if there is not actually one, as one tries to be witty and smart and caring. I doubt anything will come of this hankering. We will see if it at least prompts me to blog more.