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MATINEES

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MATINEES

I had visions of matinees.

Way back when I worked in the corporate world I was given an enormous promotion without the posted salary. I was working twice as hard, for twice as many hours, for not much than I'd been making before the new title. I hated the work but bills don't pay themselves. It was a watershed moment in my life when my boss told me I wasn't getting the big fat raise to go with the job. The scales fell from my eyes and I knew the corporate world would always be like that, broken promises and raised expectations that constantly meant putting work before family.

I vowed to get out.

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LAZY DAY

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LAZY DAY

It's raining.

The good kind of raining where I make a fire, move my laptop to a table by the dining room window so I can watch the storm, and bundle up in cozy clothing. I went to bed adamant that my distance runners would have morning practice, rain or shine. But when I got up at five and saw the dark and wet, that felt a little obsessive. We can make up the miles some other time. I sent out a text canceling the workout and got back into bed, pulled up the comforter, and slept until eight.

123123

123123

Last day of 2023.

I don't get sick often but something wicked laid me low this week. I've been wearing a mask and secluding in the game room so I don't get Calene sick, too. I chose the game room so I could watch football on the big screen but pretty much all I've been doing is sleeping. I've worn the same sweatshirt and sweatpants for the last three days and I have no plans to wear anything else until this is over.

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TWO HEARTS

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TWO HEARTS

Dawn Friday. Ocean Beach. I force myself out of bed and log stiff morning miles. Sports park with too many holes in the turf, straight along the bike path above the estuary. Salt air blowing in from the dog beach. White herons standing up to their knees in low tide. Tomorrow is my oldest son's wedding and I have a toast to write

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MR. MAGOO

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MR. MAGOO

My wife likes to call me Mr. Magoo. Calene claims I wander through life in a state of mild befuddlement, flirting with calamity without knowing. I blame it on the way I arrange my days, traveling from one obsession to another: predawn dreams about the presidency of Teddy Roosevelt, straight out of bed to sunrise practice with my runners, then an hour with my novel before putting playtime away and turning my focus to historical research and writing.

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NOVEMBER

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NOVEMBER

. . . You've all been very kind in reading these missives. This community we've built through this blog has allowed me to share a whole lot more of my personal life than I ever intended. My goal was to let you inside the head of a working writer. You got a whole lot more. . . .

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TOSS AND TURN

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TOSS AND TURN

Sitting in the cancer ward while Calene gets a PET scan. Not a bad place to write, all things considered — plush chairs, quiet, so-so WiFi. So far this morning I've checked and rechecked stats from Friday's cross country meet, cancelled a trip to London, read the LA Times, and checked my American Express balance. I didn't sleep well last night, doing the 3 am wake-up and not falling back to sleep. Sometimes when this happens and I struggle to find a comfortable sleeping position I remind myself that this is where "toss and turn" comes from.