Wednesday, August 29, 2007
The Case of the Missing Blogger
No, I was not dragged under water in a spiraling death roll, torn to pieces by a starved alligator. But I do know now that maintaining a web log is not as simple as I originally anticipated. Honestly, writing a book was easier than writing a journal (money being the age-old motivator that it is). I have spent the last month tethered to my computer, working on a variety of hair-pulling, sleep-depriving, wrinkle-inducing projects that make me question why in the world I've stayed in the design field for almost a quarter century, followed by several recuperative days spent laying prostrate on the sofa, with an ice pack on my head, watching Judge Judy, and eating starchy, pale-colored comfort foods. I ask you: who can think about clever antecdotes to write about under such circumstances?!?
I am now--thankfully--taking a much needed vacation in South Carolina where I have spent the past three days learning to feel human again. I've done nothing more ambitious than watch the alligators do laps around the lagoon out back, feed Wheat Thins to the chicken turtles in the aforementioned lagoon, eat a hotdog at the tiki bar, find 6 sharks teeth (3 of which I somehow lost), stand motionless in the pool (too exhausted to swim), stare for a good, solid hour at an anhinga drying it's wings in the sun after a morning of catching fish (to be clear here, it was the anhinga catching the fish, not me), and watch with faith in mankind amazement as two young men carried a horseshoe crab, paramedic-style, back to the ocean on top of a surfboard.
Today we are planning to ride our bikes along the beach, the highlight being--of course--another hot dog, washed down with a frozen margarita. It's amazing how in this crazy, 24-7, work, work, work, "you must succeed, or else!" world that we live in, that sometimes all it takes is a hotdog with mustard to make one feel happy, content and alive.