Surrealistically Detached

It just doesn't get any weirder.

On the one hand, everything is great -- the birds are singing and the sun is shining and Spring, despite losing an hour a few weeks ago, is in full swing. And yes, that's a good thing -- the weather is nice and NYC is, once again, palatable and downright lovely a setting in which to walk around.

Despite Kaia's back bothering her, she's doing better -- and while that tormented me, ie me being here and her being all the way over there -- things are, as per usual, wonderful.

Meanwhile, however, I've got a couple meetings this afternoon and another few high-on-the-list priority items to handle. The clock, as I've indicated countless times before, is always ticking, but it's just a question of how loudly and how much time before it stops ticking and something else invariably goes Boom. So I'm essentially heading downtown with the iPod and a bag full of files and hoping that everything goes relatively smoothly. I converted a couple episodes of the Chappelle Show to play back on the iPod (it's one o' them new-fangled video iPods) and I'm looking forward to a 22-minute train ride downtown. Problem is, I've got so much floating around between my ears that it's hard to focus on anything but everything. It's sort of like being in that commercial where a shitload of cars go whizzing by some Doof in real time; everything is happening at once, yet it's like running at top speed on a treadmill.

And the strangest part of all is my desk at work; normally it's littered with papers, folders, post-its and a variety of other chazerei that need my attention immediately. Now, however, post carpet-install, the desk is almost completely bare, aside from a file I need to review in order to prepare an Opinion Letter, another file I have for the client I need to meet in an hour, and a few other odds and ends (including a JBL OnStage II iPod speaker system -- very hot). So as things heat up -- the backdrop of Passover, Easter and the recalcitrant deadlines and impositions they invite to my world -- everything is at blistering speed and yet everything seems strangely, almost terrifyingly, calm.

Go figger. Must've been the four plus glasses of wine last night.

Or as they say in the Catskills: One seder down, one to go.