Thus begins my triumphant return to the blogosphere. Thanks to the
thousands, hundreds, few of you that kept asking when I would start up again. The excuses for why I haven’t written are many. But none are even remotely interesting — unless you consider business travel, holiday mayhem or general laziness interesting. No? Neither do I. But since content is scarce around here, we’re just going to have to suck it up.
Work got the better of me towards the end of the year. The Summer of George lasted about three weeks before I was back to working full-time as a consultant. I don’t think it would have been so bad if it weren’t for the fact that I was on a plane at least once a week, sometimes twice, and the stress of thinking that I was about to plummet to an untimely and fiery death on a regular basis did not do much in the way of inspiring creativity. I’d get home, still trippy from from my xanax/champagne cocktail (without which flying would take on an unacceptable level of terror) and zone out in front of the TV until it was time to head back to the airport. Good times.
And then the holidays rolled around. I wrapped up one of my assignments and prepared to enjoy a few quiet weeks in the “country” where I could focus on my writing. My intentions were pure, I assure you. But then came the fateful trip to a local shop for last-minute stocking stuffers. As I browsed around, picking up and putting down various tchotchkes, I came across a colorful cardboard box with bright images of vintage candy wrappers on it. It was a puzzle; 1000 pieces.
“Awwww, look honey,” I said to J. “Wouldn’t it be fun to do this together over the holidays? You know, sit in front of the tree with some wine or something?” “Yeah, sure. Totally.” J said enthusiastically. (Although I think that by that stage of our holiday preparations and shopping he would have said the exact same thing if I had pointed to a bottle opener in the shape of Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer and offered to jab him in the eye with it repeatedly.)
So I got the puzzle. And that, my friends, was the beginning of the end. I was hooked. No, not hooked….ADDICTED. From the first few minutes of fishing for the flat-edged border pieces that puzzle became my Christian Grey. Each satisfying click of one piece fitting into another was what I imagine the sweet slow pleasure of a morphine drip feels like. I spent every second I could on that thing; ignoring everything and everyone around me for hours. At first, J and my mom, who was spending Christmas with us, would try to join in. But they quickly grew tired of being berated for offenses such as putting a yellow with a squigly blue line piece into my side pile of yellow with a straight red line pieces. “Ugh MOM, you’re doing it wrong. And don’t give me any of that ‘they didn’t have puzzles in Russia’ business either.”
So yeah, this is what I’ve been doing with my free time. This and a hella lot reality TV and Food Network. But mostly this.
And maybe this.
And yeah, there’s more.
I know. There are no words. What can I say? Maybe I just needed to lose myself in something for a bit. You know, do something that didn’t require much of me but that left me with a strange sense of accomplishment. Something that was solitary and had a comfortingly familiar repetitiveness to it. Whatever it was, I enjoyed the crap out of it. Even though I think I’ve developed a nasty case carpal tunnel.
So I’m back awesome readers! Thanks for encouraging me to continue.
PS: For cool puzzles check out White Mountain Puzzles. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.