2 dreams, over 2 nights, that I'd made my deal with the devil and was now discharged of all obligations. I woke meaning to write down the particulars, didn't, they still elude me, unimportant, I understood it well enough.
**
Now, free, the past few days, not so busy, the Mother in Law brought in as my replacement, the mornings before work combing the beach, finding small scrapers, flints, micro-blades, another arrowhead. No Jade Adze as of yet, but going further up the beach than normal I am still finding flakes, watching the stones tumble in the waves as the Ferry comes in, there will be more finds.
(worked bits of flint, scrapers, arrowhead far right next to quarter)
The days, unseasonably cool and rainy, Fall has come early.
Friday night is slow, a regular, in by himself, the last table leaves at 7:00, he's oblivious, hangs out until 9:00, "lost track of the time". He'd been in for lunch, with a fellow church member, a long conversation and a napkin left behind gave me some inkling as to his beliefs.
I find the whole idea of "Hell" quaint and charming. There is a certain "WTF" direction as to his reasoning, though...
Saturday, briefly busy when I start, and then that's it, the slow miserable trickle of customers and the day ends. It's anticlimactic, a few customers come in to see me off, most I haven't told. The Mother in Law, she does nothing to assist in the close, she's depressed, why is she here? Why does everyone hate her in-laws? And she understands, knows, so it's a moot point, and I make what little peace I can, I'm not ungrateful, merely it's time, overdue, that I get back to my life, too much has been postponed for too long and my spiritual, physical, creative well being is not going to die in this boneyard.
The end draws near, finish the sweep, the bar, sit down with Mister Tickles and her for a final drink, and then I'm off...
***
Finish the evening at Mike's, Seafood Fettucine, glass of wine, home to bed.
***
This morning, Sunday, October 1st, up too early, I have no coffee, Oso, John Ward closed, find then Empire, Open, and here I'm recombobulating from the longest summer on record.
Lists of what I have to do to be compiled, projects, always more and always uncompleted, back to the Gym, some sort of Cardio routine, stretch, meditate, Wim-Hoff, begin the uncompleted grist of creative projects, cooking, seafood Jambalaya, Gumbo, Gazpachio, Borscht, Manhatten Clam Chowder, first though, to wake up, shake the stupor I've laboured under, clean the apartment - at most, maybe 2, 3 hours work, simply organize everything into it's place, sit down, clear my head, breathe, do the dishes, read a book, listen to the radio, the world - briefly, is my oyster and to make the most of it...