disjointed

Well, today was another strange one. I really didn't feel like I had much control at all over what I did today.

I was up kind of early, because I needed to post for my on-line class before 11 am. I still had a lot of reading to do, but decided to cut it short and work on my writing instead. It was a rush to the deadline and I needed to edit my work a little more before putting it up for everyone to read, but I got my reflections posted in time.

Just as I was logging into the class website, a friend called telling me he was going to his art studio, and would gladly take my broken tiles with him. I threw my posts onto the class forum, changed my clothes and rushed to meet him. We went to a near-by tile/hardware shop. Months ago I had been looking for broken tiles to do mosaic work for that restaurant I was (am) decorating. They didn't have any then. So, imagine my surprise last week when I stopped by and they told me they had been saving broken tiles for me.  !!!!

My friend rents a room to use as an art studio. He collects old pieces of wood and such, and had a load to take today. He offered to pick up my tiles and store them there for me. Well, we arrived at the tile place, and they really did have a LOT of tiles. I'd say around 100. They are all white or off-white, so not a lot of color choices, but quite a treasure anyway.

OK. So, tiles delivered, I rushed back home for a shower and lunch, before Mr. and I went to a meeting for that 3-day storytelling seminar we're helping with, starting tomorrow. It went well, and although I can tell it's going to make our lives hectic busy, I think I will enjoy it anyway.

Back home, I grabbed paint clothes and headed to the restaurant. I have been working slowly, little by little, on the second "phase" of the decorating, and I promised I would go get a little bit more done today. If I had not made that promise, I would probably have stayed home. I was whupped. But, as I worked (painting texture onto a wall) I sort of forgot to be tired. When I returned home for supper, I was pretty happy and chipper.

Not even the nationals could get me down. I don't mean the ones at the restaurant who know me; they're quite enjoyable. Just the ones on my walk to and fro, who assume I'm a tourist and say or do rude things. Sometimes they talk about me in the local language, assuming I can't understand. Other times they are aggressive about begging or soliciting my business. But today I managed to maneuver through the minefields with grace (mostly). I only retorted once, and I wasn't really even mad when I did so. I just wanted him to know I could understand everything he was saying. OK. So, I guess I could have refrained from saying anything.  :-P

I often wish walking down the sidewalk from one place to another wasn't such a battle.

So, I ended the day feeling like I had been pulled here and there by random things. But as I listed my activities off in my head, a certain pattern became apparent. Writing, art, storytelling, more art. That sounds so much like who I am! How did the day end up fitting me so perfectly?? I guess things aren't as disjointed as I thought they were.