The Unexpected

The boys bring breakfast to me
Fat Bastards Friday: Today is Friday, and I declare it a Fat Bastards Friday, a term which stems from my days in St. Louis when colleagues would declare a day free from spouses but replete with beer, ribs, beans and fries - basically anything fatty, covered in sauce or deep fried, or all of the above. Didn't matter as it was a break from the daily routine and to recharge your inner soul.

The last few weeks have been filled with small, but numerous tasks that needed to be cleared off my desk and conscience. I'm almost caught up now, but there's one last report which my numbed mind can't handle at the moment, so I'm not. Today, in deference to FBF, I eschewed my morning oatmeal and had bourbon instead - bourbon cremes that is, no need to worry SOCK - with my coffee. I do regret it now though as I can feel the miasma of sugar and cocoa flavoured white flour coat my taste buds, but what the hell, it's FBF so there. 

I shall keep it to myself
The Unexpected: Something I do want to write down before I forget - Another thing to remember - quick, where's Google Keep? But I want to be clear that I'm writing this more in a Brideshead-Revisited, than in a The-Great-Gatsby, sort of a way. In the first, Sebastian Flyte says during the golden summer at Oxford before they were sent down, and before the War broke out, that he'd like to bury a pot of gold in every place he's been happy so that he can come back when he's old, grey and miserable, dig up the pot and be happy again for a while. In the second, J. Gatsby would have written it down so that he could recreate the memory and make the past into the present. You see the difference? I think I'd like to take a middle course between the two and remember what happened, but not torment myself with regrets as Sebastian did, nor go demented trying to recreate it as Gatsby did. Memories are powerful and you have to be careful they don't control, nor in the worst case, destroy your ability to keep moving on. There is nothing worse than living in a worn-out memory that ironically becomes more and more desirable with your own burnishing and polishing of the details.

The details are important, but not to be manipulated
But, back to the unexpected - you see, I have a tendency to scheme and manipulate plan things down to the finest detail. This would be fine if you were organising some important social event for someone else but when it comes to sorting out what you hope for, what you want, what you long for in your own life, it's a recipe for disaster because remember, the gods grant your wishes when they want to punish you. Anyway, the point is, I find it difficult to go with the flow when the random sequence of events that we call life happens. I fight entropy and spend too much time setting things up in the present to define the future. The truth is, however, that fighting entropy is a losing proposition - all the laws of physics are against you. 

Sudut-sudut hati-kami
This past Sunday, however, was a lovely example of the unexpected happening. It started with the two tone beat of Two Hearts by Kylie Minogue and the opening sequence of the remixed version of Sarah Mclachlan's Dirty Little Secrets and plans to go see the Great Gatsby with the Seven Samurai, except that the Seven Samurai drew their swords, waved them menacingly at Gatsby and said (more or less), "Be off with you scurvy curs, for your tastes in film is dubious and you are lacking in fine tastes!". I'm not exaggerating. In any case, I stuck to the course which had been set by in the morning, saw the Great Gatsby which was stylistically beautiful, and which captured the excesses and contrasts between the rich and the poor (Pwore! Do you think, Mr. Rochester, that because I'm pwore(!), I'm lacking in feeling? - oops, wrong film), but to me was somewhat lacking in an emotional core - but perhaps that was deliberate because in the end, the characters except for Nick Carraway were so tied to money in one way or another. The details in Gatsby were made of the finest gloss if somewhat overwhelming at times, OTT in some cases, as was whispered to me. 

Golden days are unexpected pleasures
Following the glitz and glamour of the Fitzgerald's world, we decamped (very appropriate word that) and returned to the grit of the real world by way of the Pumpjack, but after a wee detour to check on cones of shame and purple bandages - don't ask. I couldn't even begin to explain for when I tried to explain to RP, he burst out in gales of laughter - which I tell you doesn't happen very often. BKKB and the SOCK joined us - the latter before he departed for Russia. I got into trouble with KB for not being more forthright so he could test the waters on my behalf (likely glacial with some signs of warming) and there was drink. And there were whispered half-confidences and declarations withdrawn - which I hate but what can you do, you just go with the flow in cases like this. Some might want more details, but I can't provide details because that's not the point of this recounting ("Raconte-moi! Raconte des histoires!"). Later, we agreed that it was a good day, and even better for having been shared and that it was one of those golden days that I shall come back to dig up some day and look at fondly (but not, like Sebastian, with regrets). Yes, an unexpectedly golden Sunday, a feeling that was reflected in the way the sun's last rays enveloped the shoebox.

The mind's eye should clean its spectacles
The Lesson: Several lessons were learnt this week. From the boss, I learnt that troubles come and go in phases and all we should do is do try and focus on the matters at hand to do as good a job as we can do. This lesson is basically the first and fourth agreement bound into one - do what's right and do it as well as you can. From the events of Sunday, I was reminded that the unexpected and random can short-cut self-induced mental turmoil/drama and make your mind's eye focus on the narrative instead. This lesson combines the second and third agreement - where you don't make it personal, nor do you assume that you can know another's motivations. 

So, did you learn anything more from this? Not much right? And that's the way it should be.