My beautiful new iBook has been suffering from a mysterious complaint, so I called the wonder-working women of Ms Mac, who took it away for a night and brought it back it at noon today, better than new. As a result, though, a whole day went by during which I was unable to blog, read my e-mail, surf the Web, or do any of the things to which I normally devote so much of my waking life. Instead, I curled up on the couch with a short stack of Barbara Pym novels and spent Wednesday afternoon reading for pleasure. When not reading, I looked at the art on the walls. I didn’t even listen to music! In the evening I took a cab up to Harlem and dined on pulled pork and smoked sausage at Dinosaur Bar-B-Que. Then I returned home, called my mother, watched a little TV, and went to bed early, content with the world.
I had a perfectly lovely time, but by the time Thursday rolled around I was starting to get a little itchy, and I confess to having been slightly relieved when Ms Mac returned my computer and I plugged myself back into the world. It’s one thing to take a day off by prior arrangement, another to have it thrust upon you. At any rate, I’m now back in business, chipping away at my accumulated e-mail and already feeling slightly wistful as my impromptu holiday recedes in the rear-view mirror. It was nice whle it lasted….