It’s the last Monday of the month, and Perfect Moment Monday! I’ve been saving this one up because it fits the bill so well.
A couple of weeks ago I was at meeting for work (that still sounds a little weird!), and we had to do the getting-to-know-you usual spiel, name, store, time with company, and interesting fact about yourself. Of course my go-to is that I’m a published author!
We finished up going around the room, and commenced to learn the things we were there to learn. During our break, my coworker, the only other person there from my store, came up to me to ask the title of my book again. He laughed and told me he had it on his Kindle!
I smiled hugely and asked if he’d gotten it during my free download weekend, and yes, he had. He hadn’t gotten a chance to read it yet, but it was so much fun to meet a real live stranger (then) who had actually chosen my book.
And I’m still tickled pink over it!
This past Sunday, Mel posted I Shall Wear the Bottoms of My Trousers Rolled. Seeing as how I wrote my best thesis ever on T S Eliot’s The Waste Land, and in the process became quite familiar with his other work, before I even got past her title I immediately thought to myself, ‘I grow old, I grow old.’ You can read The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock here in its glorious entirety.
Mel writes about her perception of the passage of time, at first hardly being aware of its rapid progression, and then abruptly being faced with the gulf between then and now. And reveling in it.
I was inspired to jump up to scour my bookcases for the tall, slender paperback that’s become soft and frayed from usage, The Waste Land and Other Poems. I started in the kitchen, because I was reasonably certain that’s where it was (don’t you keep books in every room of your home?), but I missed it on the first go-round. I prowled the rest of the house, but ended up back in the kitchen, where it shyly peeked out at me like an old friend.
I’m glad my husband has gotten used to my sudden, urgent needs for certain books, and to my tenacity in searching until they’re found. In spite of having so many books, I can almost always tell you at least what bookcase something is on, if not shelf, but sometimes a book will elude me for a while.
Old friend in hand, I retired to the couch, where I savored Prufrock, refreshing every line in my memory. Such beauty in these combinations of words! Such profundity! No poet has ever spoken to the hollow spaces in my soul like T S Eliot.
When I was traveling the country like a lunatic, meeting people from mIRC, I packed light, but I always brought this book. I don’t know why I stopped returning to it.
So while I do sincerely thank you for inspiring me to do some serious introspection, Mel, what I appreciate most of all was the indirect encouragement to reconnect with something I have loved so much in the past, yet not spent any time with in the present. I will change that for the future.
Do you dream about people you’ve never met in person? I’ve had some quite vivid dreams lately featuring my fellow bloggers. Who’s a dream interpreter around here?
Last night I dreamed I screwed something up at work, an actual previous job, not a dream fabrication. My supervisor was lecturing me for mailing some paperwork in late, and I was trying to bluff my way out of it. Unfortunately, there were emails somehow proving that I was guilty, authored by none other than Rachel @ eggsinarow. Gee, thanks! I wonder why you were getting me in trouble? It wasn’t on purpose, though. I don’t see how emails could be more proof than the postmark, anyway.
I read somewhere once that your mind never makes up a face for your dreams, that it’s always someone you’ve actually laid eyes on, whether it’s a stranger at the grocery store or someone you’ve known all your life. That’s got to be theory, though. How can you test something like that?
I also remember something about most of the people in dreams are strangers in waking life. That one stuck with me because almost everyone in my dreams is someone I really know, not just the dream-know, but an actual friend, relative, or acquaintance.
Even when I’ve never even seen what they look like.
Does anyone else have dreams like that?