Real Life

Well, six days in Boothbay Harbor, ME, was just what the doctor ordered. And yes, I'm referring to the doctor I'm allowed to visit thanks to my substandard/embarrassing HealthNet benefits plan — ah, finally a perk! I knew advertising had a purpose in my life. (By the way, last time I visited a doctor, a dermatologist as it turned out, to have a look at the mysterious flesh-eating bacteria on my cheek [or Rosacia], the receptionist actually snickered at the site of my low-rent, cardboard HealthNet membership card. Oh, the humanity.)

ANYWAY: Maine. I'm afraid my ho-hum writing talents don't lend themselves very well to discussing the positive. So, suffice to say, Maine was great! Poetry it ain't, I know. But hey, it's a blog. Gimme a break. And you know what I mean. Maine was wonderful, relaxing, breathtaking, full of lobster, glorious and perfect. Like the Jersey shore without other people. Heaven. Best of all: no cell phone reception, no Internet, no cable TV. My God, I can't believe how perfectly wonderful that felt. Nothing tying us to reality, to jobs, rent, bills, correspondence, atrocious fantasy baseball teams, civilization, responsibility. It was a sublime. I felt like Emerson, but with plumbing. For what more might Man desire? Following this to its logical conclusion, I, er, concluded, whilst staring out across the glassy, chilled Maine water, swatting the mosquitoes (see, again the Jersey shore), that I could really do without the city. And not just NYC, but any city. Maine just felt...right or something. A good book, a bottle of wine, several crustaceans swimming in my belly... ah, Heaven.

Then the Fall. Back to my tiny apartment, to the heat, to the Internet (though, coincidentally, my computer just exploded, so I'm offline at home), the hustle and bustle of city life. Eh, I think I'm over it. Or slightly over it. Or ready for a brief respite, at least. Culture's overrated. Especially when one (shudder) must work for a living. And that's the worst of it, obviously. Being back at work, at my little desk, staring into a screen. What the hell's the point? Paying rent? Seeing movies? Enjoying the occasional decadent meal? I mean, that's it? Then what?

Pardon the sophomoric philosophical meanderings. I'm fresh back from the Wilderness, after all. More snark to come, promise. Next post: Mac vs. PC. Should I, will I, take the plunge???