Easy As Sunday Morning

I finally finished Cheryl Strayed's Torch. I decided that to heck with it,  I'm a gonna at least finish one book. So I did. And while at first I kept consciously comparing the story to what she had revealed in Wild it gradually took on a life of its own.

I didn't love it the way I'd loved Wild (or else I shouldn't have taken so long to read it) but it was good. It didn't kill me to finish it.

Have done almost nothing the entire weekend other than hang on the phone and sleep at odd hours so I think maybe today I'll sleep at a decent time.

The dogs remain unbathed, although that should have been a priority since I found ticks on Arnold (he's here with me resting dreamily on the meditation mat that I never use for its stated purpose) while Elliott is outside,  tied up as a punishment for running away and not coming back when called.

Chubs is here with us as some piping problem dislodged his floor tiles so suddenly that it almost seemed like poltergeist activity and if that were not bad enough,  some guy in a four wheel drive hit his car from behind. Twice.

So he's camping out here for the moment. Uncle Solomon who descended on us unannounced for the weekend left this morning. Yesterday we all had a trip to the bookstore and despite the fact that I still have a ton of unread books, I bought a bunch more. Ivan bought two. The Unkley, one.

We also picked up some pants Chubs had tailored at a suit tailor here. Only half a year late. He was supposed to have picked them up in January. But then life intervened and he forgot all about them. When he tried them on they fitted perfectly and were, if anything,  on the loose side. His recent bout of dengue shaving off a cool 6 kilos.

We looked at possible wedding suits. The style now seems to be more fitted. Chubs thought that September's a good time to start the process. He liked a bright blue silk shirt but not much else.

I was supposed to catch up with some people over the weekend but I didn't. I have spent it completely vegged out.

I am useless without a proper to-do list.

So maybe I'll sit down and write one out now.

Morning meeting tomorrow.

And loads of questions to send out, an interview to finish transcribing and two more stories to write.

And there's the Maybank buka puasa in the heart of the city at rush hour. And maybe Marking after if I feel up to it.

Alone?  Yeah no plans to meet anyone tomorrow and no gang.

Sometimes we must go alone if we are to write letters.

The natural tears seem to be working. Dry eyes are less dry. Which is a very good thing.

Later for you.