After I had a crap week with working, dealing with legal crap, tax crap and made a crappy visit to the dentist to fix some cavities, we went out for a nice weekend away at The Hague. No dining out, of course, we had to bring takeout to our hotel room, but at least we got to get out of the house.
On Saturday we got up early (-ish), got into our car and drove to The Hague, checked in at our hotel and dropped off our luggage, and then went to the Westfield Mall in nearby Leidschendam. We visited a bunch of stores there that we’d made appointments for. (The only way to visit stores in the Netherlands right now, is by appointment.)
After dinner we rented some bikes and made a nice bike ride from the hotel to the nearby beach. It was cold and windy, but still awesome. We saw some surfers and kite surfers and people fishing, but it was not crowded at all.
The next morning I picked up our Easter breakfast at the reception desk, which we enjoyed at our room, and then we packed up and went home again.
It was nice to be able to go somewhere else for a change, to leave the house, even with all the restrictions.
And now? Back to work, while hail and snow are dancing around our house.
The last few days, no, weeks even, I wasn’t writing. Not really. I was fucking around with Twitter, WordPress, reading about writers and poets, watching YouTube, reading blog posts, or rather, looking for blog posts. And I saw a lot of great stuff but also a lot of bullshit. What I wasn’t doing was really reading and writing. Sitting down and focusing. And my mind wasn’t happy. I felt suffocated, nauseous and tired.
The stupid thing is, as soon as I step away from those blasted screens — like earlier today, when I was making dinner for my daughter and me — my mind starts wandering, starts talking. To you, to me. My brain is stepping out, having conversations with the world without me.
And then I start making notes, afraid I will miss the conversation that is going on right now.
Wrote a #vsspoem today:
Out there and other randomness
Approaching cultural change within a company the way you would a diet, will have the same result as ‘doing’ a diet. If it’s not a real lifestyle change, it will not stick.
Be cautious with assigning any real meaning to death bed regrets. The dying might just not want to come across as shallow or the one sitting with them is just filling in the blanks.
Murakami has a new book out, a collection of short stories called “First Person Singular.” Apparently it is a little bit of a break from his third person-books of late, like “1Q84” and “and “Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage.” (Both of which I started but still need to finish.)
Is a nun married to Jesus? (Yes, it is these kinds of questions that come up in conversations we’re having at our home.) — Well, yes and no. Or: it depends.
On my night stand
Reading to my wife, before we go to sleep: Keris Stainton – The Bad Mothers’ Book Club
Reading for myself: Terry Hayes – I Am Pilgrim