By lunchtime, what remained of us were draped over a couple of boxes. The only thing that escaped us were the moans; particularly the ones about Aunts and their sudden redecoration plans.
By then, Auntie’s extensive collection of living room furniture had been transferred from one floor up, to the garage one and a half stair down – beyond a narrow nuisance-corner made of stiff red brick.
Broken and spent, Mark and I retreated back to our own den to lick our wounds, and to resist the urge to give Stephen a ring to tell him that we aren’t coming to his do later this evening. My aunt has used us up, and we are not good for fun and frolic. I think.
I’ve sat here nursing scraped knuckles and aching biceps. What you have to know is that I have only sinews, no muscles. There are no biceps which could ache — yet like phantom things which serve to remind me what a stick-and-bone figure I am, the non-existent things hurt.
Mark is the muscle of the family. Unfortunately he also has the brains of the family, so I can’t make cute jokes about him being the brawn and I the brain. Mark could dislocate my brain in a second if I tried any such pretension. I’ll sit here and drool for a bit, all right? Moaning and drooling on this Sunday. Though, I can feel a bit of Schadenfreude because he too winces when he has to stand up. I’m not the only one suffering. Sweet, huh?
I want to give Stephen a ring and tell him our excuses, but it’s only two hours left, and he has been quite insistent that we show up. “I’ll hardly know anyone there. You have to come!” Which is an odd thing for him to say because he’s like the social calendar of our lives. He knows everybody, and if he doesn’t know them, what the hell are they doing at his party?
Before Auntie shanghaied us for menial laborer’s work, I worked on a new song. I had to abandon the preparations, so I’ll just have to start it all over again tomorrow. If I find the energy then .
I’ve also continued my doodling. I spent two hours this morning continuing my exercise: drawing stick figures in proportion and in motion. I think I’m getting the hang of it.
Also, I will start the last edit pass of my essay book. That’s another thing that I’m going to do over the summer. The title of it will be “Letters from a young contrarian”. I aim for an autumn release, which in this case means September or October.
So, if we do decide to go anywhere, it looks like this summer is going to be quite full of things to do. And here I moaned about that a week ago. Things change; never stay the same. I should know that by now.