The unwritten list has no end in sight. Cross things out and then add two, three, four more things.
I could say that in the process of writing this dispatch that I determined that I am going to change. But I’ve discovered that oddly enough, change gets harder the older one gets. The only change I’ve experienced has been involuntary. I now sometimes move a bit more slowly, and this only serves to increase my panic level. The past few days, I’ve experienced considerable pain in the ball of my foot. I did not move any more slowly. Rather, I quickly figured out that I could get up to speed if I put my weight on the outside of my foot.
I’d say that my more maniacal behavior is reflective of the time of year. It’s now daylight 24 hours a day. But I’m also this way in the winter. Bottom line – I have no desire to change. I’m quite content being a Sisyphean. If I had the time, I’d go to a Sisyphean Conference. I’d happily attend talks with titles like “Little People Move Big Rocks,” “Caught between a Rock and a Hard place?” And (my favorite) “Rock of Ages: Move it or Lose it.”
At night, after eating Rock Fish, we’d push big and little rocks around with our noses. After, we’d refrain from talking about our accomplishment, and instead converse about “the next big one.”
This dispatch was supposed to be about fish, the fish that we’re now smoking, canning, freezing, and eating. Sad to say, what underlies this dispatch is the sense that right now, something else equally important isn’t getting done. Indeed.
Next: 188. 06/14/12: Departure