It’s 6:15 am, and it’s 44 degrees F/6 degrees C inside my house. Winter’s here!
Here’s yesterday’s schedule:
Get up and make coffee. Glad that I brought coffee and small French press with me to avoid the equally horrifying possibilities of in room coffee or having to go and get coffee in the dark before having coffee.
Conference call dealing with minor work emergency. Hope it’s minor, anyway, since the SEC is involved and also the word “violation”, which is even more horrifying than in room coffee.
Put hair and face together. Prepare to impersonate responsible adult.
Get taxi and go to hotel for Day Two of conference, where I have been charged with tracking down a couple of strangers and charming them.
While looking for a cab, my brother calls and we have a discussion about the Car Situation. Still have to finish dealing with that.
Leave conference for another meeting, right near my old office. As I walk along the familiar streets, I pass Lotta’s Fountain, where survivors (as of this date, there are only two left) of the ’06 quake assemble at 5:12 a.m. every April 18:
I still feel like San Francisco broke up with me, but the pain has faded to a bittersweet ache with time. A little less stab in the heart, a little more punch in the gut. I guess I’m really lucky that I lived there so long that its streets are still so familiar to me.
Get a cab back to the modest motel, finish packing, load up car. Whirlwind trip to Victor’s for pizza; careful topping up of The Monster’s gas tank; Trader Joe for necessities like coffee.
On the way to the Golden Gate Bridge.
Stop in Cloverdale to finally eat something and get out of The Monster.
Stop at Yorkville Cellars to bring them promised jobette materials. Resist this delightful suggestion:
and admire the sweeping vista over the sleeping vineyard:
Notice a last bunch of grapes which missed the harvest:
One last stop at Gowan’s, for fresh walnuts and apple cider.
Arrive home. Unpack with Leafs game on and kitties getting underfoot. Will they ever understand that this makes the feeding process slower instead of faster? The magic 8 ball says NO.
It’s way past drink o’clock.
As for today, I just have to get up in the dark, wait until it’s light enough to let the cats out, get ready to work, drive The Monster back to the car rental desk, walk to work, and then, you know, work all day. Is it really only Wednesday?