A week ago today I was laying on the hot white sand in the middle of a Corona commercial. I did this for three days. I read books, I drank "coca cola lite" and I beheld the beauty of the natural world.
Then I got home.
Tuesday through Friday I operated in kind of a snail-paced frenzy, like a robot character with wacky batteries, speeding through some moments and coming to a full stop in others. Yesterday I finished my first week back by working for eleven hours, on a FRIDAY. Seven am to 2:30 teaching, 2:30-6:20pm at rehearsal for Twelfth Night, the high school production for this fall. Eleven hours and twenty minutes. A friday. Then I went over to Erica's and she had bloody marys all set for us, six hours of Sopranos, and after a run to Chipotle (where the soup nazi from Seinfeld has apparently taken a job) we were set on the couch for the next four hours.
Today is my day to get things done at my own pace. I don't have to be anywhere for anyone, I can just accomplish all the things that I balked at this week.
You all will be very pleased to know that several friends of mine have posed questions to me about my trip, resulting in my producing a "Belize Short Story Writing Workshop FAQ" that will be posted here hopefully by the end of today.
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