Janalisa came and got me yesterday to go take a walk. This was good, though I was pretty reluctant at the time.
It’s spring break for the college where I teach, so I don’t have to drive up there this morning. I may still make it to the gym, which I always intend to do on the way home from that class but often don’t. #2 son had spring break last week, so he has to get back to school this morning.
I have work left over from last week. I got a couple of imperfect feedbacks last week at oDesk, to my dismay, so it’s possible that I wasn’t doing as good a job as I thought I was. I was also expecting to do ten hours or so for The Computer Guy this week, but the websites in question haven’t launched yet, so I may be able to catch up on the unbillable stuff this week, as well as finishing the things I had intended to finish last week.
I’m scheduled to join my old college chum at a little folk festival this summer. She wrote to ask whether I still wanted to. I was able to say that I had actually been through this before, so I knew that I would be singing again by then. How horrible is it that I’ve done this before? Surely it ought to be a once-in-a-liftime sort of thing. At worst.
Still, my level of experience does mean that I know I’ll survive it. And of course religious faith allows us to worry only about the survivors. I read in some book or other that our culture has only two ideas about death: that it leads to the end of existence, like a permanent sleep, and that it leads to eternal life in the presence of God (the possibility of eternal hell and damnation being something members of our culture reserve for other people, so it doesn’t matter in our own lives). There is therefore no reason for us to be upset about death. This doesn’t stop us from being upset about it, but it’s a good point to think about.