Sleep still lulls in the pink hammocks of my eyes


Wow, the last 3 posts from me were political.
So unlike me.
Change is inevitable.
But so is reversion.
(Vote for Bernie Sanders.)
Like Adele, I tend to write about what’s closest to me.
Seems like writing about what’s closest to me makes self-hypnosis easier.
I wasn’t born writing.
Writing isn’t as easy for me as breathing.
Or any of the other medulla oblongata functions.

I’m writing this without referencing the accuracy of my statements.
This is something I like to mention because I’m against misinforming.
Really I should be more strict and say I’m even against accidentally misinforming.
But oh well.
Trusting is superfluous.
Don’t trust me or anything I say.
It’s simple.
Me and my sentences barely longer than a string of apostrophes, don’t trust us.

What brought me to TOE was something that happened to me not too long ago.
Probably ~1 hour ago.
I was steamrolling through my morning task list, which I mentally planned last night while brushing my teeth.
I probably would’ve reviewed this list in the shower, had I showered yet.
Sleep still lulls in the pink hammocks of my eyes, and maybe that’s to blame
Here’s what happened:
I was on the last step of making books, namely, trimming the edges.
I was about to trim the 20 Large Notebooks I had already prepped and bound.
I was also about to trim a copy of “The Persistence of Crows”, which someone ordered.

By the way, Grant Maierhofer continues to publish some great books.
I’m reading a book of his short stories now, “Marcel”.
Sweet little book.
I want to read his new novel, “Postures”.

Getting back to what happened:
I was trimming 20 Large SlimNote Notebooks and 1 Tiny TOE Press novel.
I cut the tops and bottoms just fine.
Everything was just fine.
Books were coming out beautifully.
I was humming along.
Like I said before, steamrolling.
The last cut was the outer edges.
5 inches from the spines for Large Notebooks.
5.25 inches from the spine for “The Persistence of Crows”.
I trimmed the Large Notebooks first.
They turned out just right, no complaints.

Then came “The Persistence of Crows”.
Something swerved and the edge-cut came out running diagonal instead of straight.
No words were cut off, but the novel was a trapezoid with 1 pair of parallel sides.
I tried to fix it, to make it rectangular, and nicked the edges off the text.
I said “Why did I do that?” really loudly.
The #1 thing I reviewed on my task list last night while brushing my teeth: binding “The Persistence of Crows”.
And I was so close, just 1 more cut, and I botched it.
When I was a boy I used to say “Why me, God?” when something similar happened.
Something shitty.
Now, as an adult, I say “Why did I do that?”
Mildly interesting.

I spent the next few minutes trying to calm myself.
I told myself it’s not a big deal.
I just have to make a new photocopy of the master manuscript.
Then prep, bind, and trim a new book.
Hours worth of work.
Nothing if you consider how long the universe took to get to right… now.
I walked out of the workshop and told Bridget what I did.
She didn’t react.
It didn’t seem like it was a big deal to her.
Not something to get worked up over.
And it wasn’t.
I can make another copy of “The Persistence of Crows” then put in the hours.
I took a deep breath.
Went back into the workshop.
Packed the 20 Large Notebooks and sat down to write this little ditty.

I could go on narrating the events of my life, like Adele.
I could write about how I had to go to the Post Office before I was able to finish this little ditty.
There was so much traffic because of lane closures.
I ended up getting out of the car (Bridget was driving) and running the last 4 blocks to make it before it closed.
Somewhere nearby the traffic gave and cars started to flow again.
I ran faster, not wanting Bridget to pass me.
I was wearing tennis shoes, running shorts, and a linen button down short-sleeve shirt.
I carried a brown Whole Foods grocery bag overflowing with Small USPS Flat Rate Boxes.
Every book except the one that matters most.
I’m talking about “The Persistence of Crows”.
Construction workers probably thought I was a thief running away with organic food.
On the last block, Bridget caught up and was about to beat me there.
She gestured positively about my speedy running.
Then she caught a red light.
I burst into the Post Office out of breath.
In this way I made slightly better time than if I would’ve stayed in the car.
But it would’ve been okay if I stayed in the car.

Probably the most important skill in life is decision-making.
The ability to make good decisions, like @BernieSanders has proven over his life.
Some decision are split-second things that decide your fate.
The difference between doing something at that instant or losing.
I remember feeling like I made the right decision getting out of the car in stopped traffic with 4 blocks to go, but really I rushed to the Post Office for no reason.
I rushed because I was afraid of making another bad decision today.

November 7, 2015 4:40 pm

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