Everyone Else is Concerned

The first call is at eight.   There is another for ten thirty. Something at one, and then three.  The first one ends on the hour.   One of my colleagues wants to debrief.  Someone calls on Skype while we’re talking.  I tell them, I’m on the phone.  Ring them back when I’m done.  A coffee before the next meeting and, in the kitchen a few new we-chat messages.  I reply.  Receive a reply.  Misunderstanding.  Another note.  All cleared up.  Next call is on. 

The day whipsaws this way until valiantly manage to get my sneakers on and head the gym.  When I’m home I see that I missed a call someone assumed were to have had at this late afternoon slot.  “Hey so can we do tomorrow at this time?”

Each call is “important.”  Each call pulls you in emotionally and sets you off with an array of next steps, emotional residue.  Delegate.  Act.  Make a note to act at some point in the future.  Nearly all of these are work related.  What of the light fixture that needs to be fixed?  Or the bathroom glass that shattered?  There was the letter to someone infirm, that you said must happen.  If you don’t go on Amazon and hit ‘send’ that gift will never get there.

Dinner.  I’ll make it.  My older daughter has decided suddenly that she wants to be a pescetarian.  My local market has salmon and tuna only as cuts one could grill.  I get a big hunk of salmon and a smaller block of tuna.  I flip the piece once and then again over.  It holds.  The thin part is well done, but the thick section is too raw for everyone else at the table.  I need a different technique.  I’m casual.  Everyone else is concerned.  More grill.  Hotter grill.  Closed grill.

Later, a fire inside.  It’s the first time we’ve had a working fireplace in a long while.  The impulse to make the conflagration bigger and bigger is irresistible.  Now the most important thing is watching the flames be pulled by the oxygen up through the back of the pile into the chimney.  Watch the flames race through the wood.  A convincing mound of coals forming down below.  Enthralled by the unforgiving fire as it consumes each of the logs in time.   Drowsy.

No one is calling me.  I do not want to do call anyone.