(National Institute for Artists with Disabilities) this morning and drove away with the first signs of depression. Couldn't decide what to do with myself with no destination in mind. Haven't been this open for many years, which is a way of saying that I had nowhere to go. Have never been the StarBucks type. With home the likely place to head for at the moment, I find myself sitting here at my computer with nothing of note to report.
The phone rang, "...this is Marilyn. Wanted to report that Maury (the man who met with us on Tuesday) has agreed to contribute to the Barbara Alexander Academy and has suggested that he will seek matching funds from Chevron/Texaco as well." "I'm having a dinner on Thursday next for other contributors and wondering if you would join us?" Agreed. The work on this remarkable charter school must continue. I, of course, accepted, and wondered if I should tell Marilyn how important this call was to me? She pulled me back into an unknown future by setting a date for me to pin myself to.
It's always been true that I need options. I can be comfortably alone only if I have a choice about it. At those times when I'm at loose ends with nothing to do -- slipping from chair to chair and watching "television" instead of specific programs -- I experience loneliness. But, if the phone rings and someone at the other end of the line asks, "...want to go to a movie?" Then, and only then, I can say "no, I plan to spend the evening doing laundry (or a report, or writing, or doodlin')," and at that moment I've chosen to spend the evening at home, alone. It's having someone present an option that makes the difference. Funny. It's always been so. Marilyn had innocently presented the option that transformed time into a living space.
So now that I've chosen, I'm writing here and planning to spend the afternoon making calls and updating my calendar to include new items more closely related to my new open schedule. Lunch with Mindell, another with Michelle, and still another with Isiah are new items. Talk with my broker about my portfolio and the need to begin to transfer dividends into my checking account instead of redepositing. Practical things now must move to the top of my "to do" list. Must contact someone to finish hauling possessions out of the storage place so that another monthly bill can be eliminated. So I'll be a little crowded -- maybe a yard sale?
Has anyone else on earth accumulated as much paper as I? Time to plug in the paper shredder and rid myself of records that go back beyond 7 seven years (isn't that the legal time allowance?). That should take up several days of browsing and tossing, a task I've delayed far too long.
Who knows what gems may turn up among the debris? Or, just how much garbage I've been hoarding for lo these many years ... .
Maybe I've found another compelling activity, at least until another Marilyn calls ... .
