Add. Notes from My Office

As I noted earlier in the blog Notes from My Office (Office Note #3), we are located near a crematorium. This is exciting because occasionally when it smells of burgers, you realize it’s actually people.

This addition has little to do with that, but is still in the vein of ‘yeesh.’ I was just getting ready to leave my office around 7pm last night and had drawn the blinds. As I sat down to shut off my computer I saw a person pass my window out of the corner of my eye.

Outside my window there are cottonwood trees, small rocks and an eight-foot brick wall set back about eight feet from my window, but no sidewalk. So I got up and watched the person through my blinds. He proceeded to sit down behind a tree against the wall. I sat back down and continued shutting down my computer.

I looked out a couple minutes later and now the man had removed his shirt. I thought this odd and hoped that I would not be witness to some sort of self-abuse. Averting my eyes, I shut off my monitor and my speakers and then looked out again.

Now he had a small bowl and was running a small torch or lighter underneath it.

Apparently, you can not only smell the dead around my office, but you can also see people shooting up.

That’s all for today. Thanks for your support!

Today My Pants Have Holes

I don’t quite understand what happened. I put on my Union Bay cargo pants, the ill-fitting ones that require a belt so they don’t fall down. I didn’t notice anything different right away. I rolled up my right leg and biked to work.

These pants are of great concern to me

Then I realized, there were holes in my pants. I’m not sure what caused the holes in my pants. If I pat my leg around the holes, small fabric particles come bloom into the air.

This is very distressing and I’m going to blame New Mexico. Or little people with little teeth.

Boy, I hope my other pants don’ t have unexplained holes. Maybe I need a dresser instead of shelves.

Stupid Sun

In today’s report we will learn about the bastardly, horribly, atrociously good weather of Santa Fe.

I have been getting frustrated with the weather. Every day seems to be the model of perfection. Each day I awake to middling temperatures, blue skies and copious amounts of sun. This perfection severely limits my attention span and renders weekends unproductive and delightful.

Being a proper Midwesterner, I cannot stay in the house on these lovely days. I am a strict adherent of the “Get outside when the weather’s good” mentality. An attitude borne of Wisconsin weather patterns where beautiful sunny days are to be held and caressed whenever they arrive because you just don’t know when another one will show up.

But what does one do when every single day is beautiful and deserving of the same love and respect?

On weekdays I shut myself in my office and close my shades and pretend that it’s not lovely and fine outside. I become entranced with my work, eat lunch at my desk and hide from the light knowing that to step outside would be to release myself to the blue skies at which point I would tear off my clothes and fly off on my bike giddy and smiling through the narrow streets of Santa Fe.

On weekends, I keep my clothes on and hop on my bike for a couple hours in the morning. Afterward I sit down at my desk for approximately 23 seconds before getting edgy and getting out to enjoy the day some more. This schedule is not conducive to finishing taxes, completing translations or buying/building shelves for my room.

And so I wander about sun-stricken, head jumbled with things to do, errands to run, and letters to send. I write to-do lists on various slips of paper and receipts that litter my pockets as I straggle to museums and visit the surrounding trails and hills.

I am living in hell! Too much of too good. Enjoyment needs to be tempered with downtime and natural patterns.

And then it finally happened. This past Wednesday, I saw clouds building on the horizon and I saw opportunity arriving. I delighted in four straight days of on-and-off rain and thunderstorms. Trees began to bloom, dust settled and I worked. And I finished my taxes, read magazines, wrote letters and called friends.

But by Sunday, the sun has reared her head again and I was off.