Sitting in one of
the Paneras my offices eating a tasty chicken salad sandwich Indescribable Mess That Surprisingly Requires A Fork, early for one of my 3 meetings of the day, I feel content. Not happy or unhappy, thrilled or anxious. Just pretty good for no remarkable reason, in a familiar kind of way. In a "this is my life and I'm likin' these rhythms" kind of way.
The day started far earlier than I'd hoped for when I woke before sunrise to recall that the clay I'd needed to turn into pendants last night wasn't ready and therefore my morning would be spent moving through the creative motions required for designing some truly pleasing pieces that will be presented to a client who's commissioned a very specific type of pendant. (Best to offer a selection: choices are good when your client has something in mind, and you're the one who's going to realize that vision for her.)
Now, several hours later, the pendants sitting on a kiln shelf awaiting the high temperatures that will take them to bisque and ready for tomorrow night's glazing session, and I'm giving myself fifteen minutes to move from this highly tactile mode to one in which I can write a semi-professional document for a new website client. We're not too awfully formal over here in MelodyLand, but certain standards must be met. And so I'm hoping the flow of an ordinary blog post will help set the stage in my brain for this next kind of writing.
It'll be a whole lot easier if She Who Wore Far Too Much Musk Perfume will go back to work and stop sitting so close to me. I'm sure she's a lovely person, truly I am. But really! Somebody who loves this woman should speak up and be far more honest with her. Sometime really, really soon.