Hurry up, please. It's time.

It goes something like that.

I like the quiet after midnight. I have these second winds now that I am working out late, and I think that I'm going to use them to write about things that wouldn't make sense in the context of this blog. But I'll also write here as well.

This space has always allowed me to indulge in my inner chatterbox. I think that I've not had an opportunity to really let this loquacious creature out in quite a while. I don't get to speak often with one friend who just allowed me to talk to my heart's content (all the while rolling his eyes at my sheer ridiculousness). I miss that.

I've been very careful with my words lately. Who knows why?

Lately, I've been thinking more and more about Shakespeare, and less and less about my work. This is a good thing.

***
I've also joined the gym in my old neighborhood (as poor Petworth has no gym yet) and it has provided me with a lot of entertainment. Some people love to look at themselves in the mirror. If I worked that hard on perfecting my body, I suppose I would do that as well. However, I don't think that your rear end will look ten times better after a half hour on the elliptical. But I could be wrong!

I'm going to try a spinning class and get back to you on that.

I love this gym because it's full of all kinds of people. It's like a Benneton Ad. I'm sure I'll have more to say, but it's going to take a while for me to get my bearings again.

Downloading and centering.

So, I had this need to download some Stevie Wonder, Marvin Gaye, The Emotions and Earth Wind and Fire. And I did. Sometimes I forget how much fun certain songs can be. They help you feng shui your life (if you can, in fact, do that).

A friend told me that I talked too much about work and it is starting to become who I am not what I do. Another friend told me that my time is up in this current job and I have to figure out what's next. They are both correct.

I went to a wedding with a terrific date and watched one of my favorite people get married to the perfect woman for him. I read a poem (not written by me!) for them. I was so very honored to do so.

I visited to the Building Museum for the second time in two weeks. It centers me. That place is a temple of calm. If you don't believe me (you six people who read this), visit it, and see.

Perhaps...

if I start writing a little bit, even if it's only a bit of minutia, I'll begin to write something. It doesn't matter if you read anymore.

It seems that I'm not thinking or writing very well.

All I seem to do is work or worry about work that isn't done or can't be done immediately.

There's this letter that I need to write. A party to throw. Another letter to write.

Things to do.

I'm just afraid I'll have one of those days where I shut down and do nothing. And now I'm one of those people who has to ask a work colleague if things have been accomplished, if she's on top of things--because I'm afraid that she is not.

And if you are still reading, which I suspect you are not, please don't expect anything but the ravings of an eccentric for a more than a little while. Admittedly, I'm a little lost right now.

I'm trying to figure out what makes me interesting or me again. One of those two things will suffice for now.