Eleven and a half months without a word to save the dream.

Five hundred thousand minutes to remind me of the vinyl groove I lost, of the gloss black symmetry that I allowed to warp in the sun. I was simply too busy making love to the backburner to notice, too bent on having more square feet to websurf in.

To make so many obvious mistakes boggles the mind, yet it made the most sense at the time. How was I to know that the words would fail me? That they would not return at my command. That I would be without a tender morsel of pride, or without a shred of prejudice toward the neon lights that silhouetted my contemporaries.

Yes, without the novel that my shoulder devil kept whispering about in my ear, I smiled wide and foolish as the wrecking ball of regret smacked me in the teeth. It took me eleven and a half months to finally look in the mirror, to see the damage.

I should have known this would happen when The Art of War was directly next to The Elements of Style in my bookcase. When I could feel creativity raining inside my skull, but my brain had been shrink-wrapped in polyethylene.

When the acid trip remix of Gloria Estefan’s ‘Words Got In The Way‘ plays in the elevator of my descent into this present state. When the realization of ‘the dream’ looks less and less like Fantasy Island, and more like something produced in a North Jersey chemical plant.

I was under the notion that it would be constructive to perfect my corporate smile, my pledge to ‘get right on it’, my undying delusion that such actions really get one anywhere in the kiss-ass political hierarchy of a large corporation.

To make so many obvious mistakes boggles the mind, yet there were lessons learned. The dream is not a fantastic flood that fills the desert. It never was. It is a meticulous drip, the gradual build that fate will maintain if you just promise to never give up. It took eleven and a half months to realize that one word at a time will do.

One word at a time to save the dream that I thought was lost. To show me that the words never really failed me. It was the other way around.

- – - – -

If it wasn’t 100% clear, this passage was about how I’ve had writer’s block for the past year. My only feasible explanation is that sometimes you just go through times in your life where your mind is not in tune with your heart. But I’m pretty close to getting back to where I left off…

And away we go. Cheers.

… and good things are happening as a result. Temperatures are finally rising, sending the gloves and fleece into storage. The Sahm-Rod townhouse condo gets ever closer to its renovation completion, and hearts race in anticipation. Career shifts are ahead, and daily routines will soon adjust to fit… like a new t-shirt snug after an initial washing.

And of course, the lime tree has survived the winter, prospering at that. Clusters of mini-limes have burst from the heads of white flowers, and to see them as a metaphor would be too easy… even if it totally is.

May is going to be a crazy month for me, perhaps the craziest I’ve ever known. Of course, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Cheers.

Moving is like a jeopardized trans-Atlantic voyage where the crew has to cast the non-vital items into the sea to survive the journey. With the prospect of moving in our distant horizon, S. Rod and I know the non-vital items that won’t be making the trip with us.

The primary upgrade in our move will be the addition of a 3rd bedroom. For two people who enjoy arts and crafts, it’s only natural that this room will become a studio. Of course, you may ask, “Well, didn’t you have a studio before?” Yes, but it also functioned as our office/library/archive/computer room, so a little separation will be quite liberating.

More to the point, without all of the arts and crafts to bog down the office/computer room, we’re hoping to give it a little more productivity. The decision has been made that of the three IKEA desks now in the office/studio, none will be in the new office. The drafting table will go to the new studio, the pine desk will be an “uncle” gift to my oldest nephew, and the last desk will be out in the tag sale at month’s end.

With two desks to replace, we figure the best replacement would be an L-shaped corner workstation for both of us. But any specifics from there are totally up in the air.

Right now, we’ve narrowed it into three styles to choose from (click to see a larger view):

1. Cheap and Swedish

2. Modest and Modern

3. Expensive and Clunky

Therefore, if you were me and S.Rod, which choice would you buy a pair of?