I am a native in this world And think in it as a native thinks

Saturday, August 2, 2014


Stone steps at the Japanese Garden in Portland.

The serenity and sense of order are more than usually appealing to me this morning. I woke bleary-eyed and coughing from what's either an oncoming cold, or my sinuses misbehaving more than usual, to rain pouring down outside my window.

And an apartment that was already bursting at the seams now holds eight more cartons of stuff, plus framed photographs and a painting I bought in Beijing many years ago.

I'm downsizing from an office to a cubicle at work, the first step in extricating myself from this job. My request to move to a four-day workweek was turned down, but I'm working on a new strategy. If that doesn't work, there's always Plan B. Plan C. Plan D.

Some people would see a rainy Saturday as an opportunity to go through the cartons and figure out what I'm keeping, what goes to charity, what goes to storage. My first impulse is to go back to bed with coffee, emerging only when the mug is empty or the coffee is cold.

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