Monday’s Dim Recollections

This weekend distinguished itself from the last by my feeling better and doing more, though it remains similar in that my memory of it is just an impression, most of the specifics are gone from exact quantification and remain only as a sense memory of what it is to have accomplished whatever it was I did.

The grow lights are up and on, running well and so brightly as to really illustrate how under-powered my makeshift shop-light setup has been.  The new grow area expansion produces a supposed 40,000 lumens, nearly five times what I imagine the old rig managed.  The difference in available light between my stop gaps and the array actually meant for plant growth is so great as to speak for the next few plant business purchases. It’ll take a few sales before I can afford further arrays, until then I’ve started a rotational schedule.

I wrote nothing over the weekend.  I can’t remember the last time I seriously wrote, meaning it’s been a few days.  I tried today but my heart’s not in it.  Too much anxious energy.  It isn’t so much worry as it is like a snake considering prey four times its width.  Where to start, how to approach all there is to do, how to lodge the whole to do list in the have done gullet without choking on the mass.

I’m on track for submissions, at least through april fifteenth.  I can take some time off from seeking out publications to approach, I have enough with near enough deadlines that I needn’t add more.

I have two weeks to put all my sales notes to use.  I’ve got little plant work to do, and instead need to focus on the business aspect of A.A., namely signs, business cards, and information sheets, things to make the business seem less back alley and more legitimate.

I don’t mind spending my time thusly.  I’ve always had an interest in entrepreneurship, selling rocks I’d collected on rock hunting expeditions from a stand I set up in front of the house.  I think I was less put off by people, then.  I don’t recall having as much difficulty talking to strangers as I do during the sales process now, but I was a child and likely received a kinder sort of communication than one normally gets as an adult.  As it is now, the actual selling is my least favorite part.  I love my plants, I enjoy the process of improving my business and managing the various financial aspects of it.  Infrastructure and management are fun for me.  If only I could skip the part where I, as the cave dwelling curmudgeon that I am, have to put on a customer friendly face.  I’m thinking of hiring a puppet to do the customer service for me.  That or some sort of hyper-intelligent rabbit-cat.

I change my mind about my memory.  I recall pretty well what I did sunday, so it’s only saturday that’s gone missing.  It could be that, as I have no more structure to my schedule on friday than I do saturday that I’ve divided saturday’s activities between friday and sunday, stealing its credit for productivity.  I do recall doing more errands with Mary than would be possible after she’d gotten off work on friday.  Yesterday, we slept late after having watched the first third of Daredevil season 2 until five in the morning.  Hanging the light, arranging the plants, cleaning the basement, and re-arranging the studio took up most of what was left to sunday.

Some might wish for a better memory, but I’m content with not caring when a thing happened, so long as it has.  Piecing together my recent past makes for good post fodder, but I can’t say the mystery weighs on me much at any other time.  So long as my appointments are written down (and programmed in my phone, and re-written in each of the four calendars, and I’ve set a call reminder for them) the exact nature of time needn’t be defined for me.

I prefer a flexible reality.

 

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