A draft of an old piece first written on 9/27/02 -- 2 weeks after my illness took form.

I took the diaganol route today,

veered down Arkansas and sat

with the others who chose to do the same.

I am no mathematician, but I know how

popularity wastes time.  What can be done

 in 5 minutes takes 15. But being trapped

in the herd, knowing how I should have

resisted the urge to take the diagonal line

with nowhere to go, frustrated me.  I creeped along,

resisting the pull of the U-turn, knowing the temptation

to return to a less traveled boulevard would

only make my commute longer.  This morning

was a wash, a boring commute, even the church spires

of Columbia Avenue did not inspire me to think of how beautiful the world is

The trees are dropping their leaves, even though they are green.

The sky is grey, shedding water, but rain is needed here so I can’t complain.

This is what my life has become, a commute from a to z.

The points of desitination pull like gravity but offer little in return.

If I were a planet revolving through space, would I feel such discontent?

Would my daily revolution become mundane , a flat line , a plane

of monotony? Or would I note the changing pattern of the stars

the lightening of the moon, the fading of the milkway?  Would these

Small changes keep me alive? 

Sneak preview of the upcoming issue of Martha Stewart:  Living

On Saturday Isabel had time trials.  Her speed was much improved over last year, which should make this summer's swim meets more enjoyable.  It was a hot day, more typical to DC than the days we've had for the past month.  The trials lasted nearly 5 hours.  At one point I had to leave to pick up Isabel's medical forms (which reminds me, I have to fill out the rest of her camp forms).  When I came back there was no place to park, and to avoid a ticket I had to park at the Long Branch library tucked behind the community center.  I couldn't drive directly there, though.  Instead I had to drive all around and up and behind it.  Luckily, my nose lead the way and I managed to get to point B from A without losing it.  Plus I had double luck, because a footpath conntected Point B to Point A, so the walk, which could have taken a half hour, took only 10 minutes.  The path lead through the woods, and over a small creek, named Long Branch. The path was steep, strewn with glass,  and ran quickly down the hill.  Everything was damp.

That evening Isabel had a sleep over, which meant that I could begin my sleeping adventure in my own bed for a change.  It felt good to stay in one place....though I can't say I slept well.  The breathing of the dog and Alan kept me from resting well.  If I could have, I would have slept on the old couch, but it was occupied by my daughter.  Our new couch, yes, it came, was occupied by her friend -- for 24 hours our living room looked like a second hand furiture store.  It's all straightened out now. The old couch has settled nicely in the corner of the basement rec room and the new couch is starting to grow on me.  For some reason the fabric is much redder than I recall...I thought it was more pinkish purple or rosy, or perhaps it is, rosy.  The good news is that Daisy Mae Wild Cat has no interest in using it as a scratching post.

On Sunday, Father's day, Isabel became very ill -- threw up  5 times and stayed in bed with a fever.  Alan and I watched Bruce Lee movies in honor of his maleness.  They weren't so bad, really.