I don't know your name. I don't even know whether you're real. However, you're real enough during the fifteen or so minutes it takes for carbamazapine induced sleep to wear off. You're always wanting me to meet you in one of several recurrent places. I think that some of those places are distorted recollections of locations at CRRM. Others are distorted recollections of Washington Square Park in NYC. Still others are fictionalized locations along the East River in Upper Manhattan. Evidently my brain -- the deep level that I call The Watcher -- is struggling to make sense of recent events. Well, Watcher, let me make things simple for you ...
I have no further fund raising obligations to anyone, not to CRRM (who ordered me off the property), not to MNHM (who said the would approach a certain family I will not name and have not told me otherwise since making that remark), and not for MCI (who by failing to respond to emails timely took themselves out of the competition for my time). Thank you, Universe, for making me Free At Last.
Instead of trying to do fund raising for others I'm now free to concentrate on generating a supplemental income for Evalyn and me. It needs to be on the order of $1,000 per month, preferably more, if it is to have a payback horizon of a year regarding the $7,000 we have sunk into the new ventures of art and music, and if it is to more than cover the not quite $500 per month that our new Yoyota car is costing us in car payments, funds that used to go to retirement of our second mortgage but now go to Toyota Motor Credit instead.
I requested the carbamazapine therapy because I knew that I needed to de-orbit, preferably long before setting out for SOCAL in two weeks. That goal has been met but have any of my views changed? Was I crazy before and sane now? No. Not at all. Nothing has changed except that I'm better rested, which is always a good thing.
At one point my wife threatened to have me committed if I didn't take certain medications per a schedule insisted upon by her. (She's a nurse, an RN/BSN who is working weekends as a hospice nurse.) I told her that if she did that, when I got out I would immediately divorce her. (Either party can do that in Colorado. Basically, you just file a notice of divorce with the court and have a hearing regarding division of assets. That the other party may not want a divorce is, for better or worse, immaterial. Marriage is a partnership and in Colorado one party can dissolve it. I could have forced a fire sale of the marital assets, the proceeds of which would have been split fifty fifty, providing me enough to live on in starving artist mode while I did the music thing which, in the long run, is all I care about. Art is simply a way station on the journey to the music project. So is writing. They are the first events but they are not the main events.
I told her that there was another circumstance that would force an immediate divorce, and that was any further attempts by her to control me or tell me what to do. I told her that her advice was welcome, and that I often took it, but that there would be no more orders from her upon pain of immediate divorce. She was shocked by this, and very angry, but has come to accept it as she sees that the major cash outlays have in fact already been made. I told her that what's at issue here is the right of the new me to live, which means to live without being controlled by any other human being or human agency. I'm a new person, the new person has the right of self defense, and I will not hesitate to use it.
When I told my wife that upon return from SOCAL we would have to put everything on hold while we cleared out the two lower level bedrooms that are full of storage locker clutter, her reaction was "Why wait? Why not do it now before things really get going?" I was surprised but delighted as well. Substantial progress was made today on clearing out enough of the south bedroom to allow the synthesizer and computer to be set up there when I want that. It will take another couple of days to clear enough additional space to allow all art materials to be stored there in translucent tubs so we can find things. Once that has been accomplished we can start moving tables from the outdoor office to the south lower level bedroom. The outdoor office will then be back to its original status -- a place where I can set up my computer in order to commune with nature as I work.
At seme point a decision will have to be made regarding whether to leave the ccanopy over the outdoor office up all winter. Part of me would like to leave it up -- its steep roof should prevent accumulation of snow that might tear the canopy due to extreme weight. But another part of me would like to take it down so that I can sit outdoors and sunbathe in swim trunks while reading, just as I do every winter. That part of me is likely to win the debate so that son Wil and I will have to take it down by the inverse of the method we used to put it up.
I've made a decision to donate the bulk of my railroading books to the local Arc Thrift Store. I bought them largely to support CRRM, I have not read most of them and never will, and I'll be god damned if I"m going to let them go back to CRRM. So ... Some lucky soul is going to stumble into a mother lode of books on all aspects of narrow gauge and standard gauge railroading, in mint condition, available to him for twenty cents on the dollar. Whoever he is, I wish him mamy hours of enjoyment with the collection.
With one or two exceptions the only railroading books I plan to retain are those dealing with the principles of motive power, both steam and diesel, and any that deal with operating in unusual places -- freight yards, or hilly terrain that can break couplers if the engineer isn't both knowledgeable and careful. Beyond that railroading holds little interest for me.