I crawled into bed tonight just after midnight after walking the short distance home from the local watering hole.
A long-ago/still-today friend was in town from a world away and we spent the night imbibing and jawing together. After midnight the place turned up the mood lighting as a signal to the last few holdout drunkards: It’s over; you have families; go home to them. We all filed out and I did that “I’m perfectly fine” walk for the hundred yards or so back to our house. Called Sharaun on the phone as I was walking up the driveway so as not to scare her when I jiggled the (inevitably locked) front door. Got in, took the trash to the curb, did the nighttime disrobe and teeth-scrub and was ready to count sheep.
Wanted to write, though. I see this guy – the guy that brought me out to the bar, something I don’t do all that much anymore – maybe twice a year. We shared some fantastic times in years gone by and it’s always good to sit with him and catch up. I like to think we share some similar motivations when it comes to work, and some of the talk is all high-school coed gossip-central but… I knew that when I paid the admission. I came for it, in fact. Why dodge? While it’s good to remember the old days, it’s even better to gnaw on the now; compare notes, talk shop. If you’re a soap-opera kind of guy you can get swept away in the politics of it all. Big companies are all politics and the sawmill is a big company.
More than wanting to write about that, though, I wanted to just write. I missed writing whilst on the big RV trip and want to get back to it even if it’s a strange not-so-complete sentence thing ala tonight. I don’t care because what’s important to me is the writing itself. Even if it’s just a stray thought that’s captured perfectly in two sentences; I don’t know why I sometimes impose a stupid “album-length” mandate on writing anyway… it’s stupid. A good sentence, a good paragraph, needs to be written.
Bah, it’s obviously time to sleep. This has gone on too long. Fun tonight. See ya.
Speaking of wanting to write… Its July. Dave, that’s one month past the middle of the year. And I know you were listening to some good tunes during your trek. To put it plainly, my mp3 player is looking for some “best of 2011 – halfway” goodness. Pretty please?
It’s coming 🙂 Next week (late!).