Wednesday, July 1, 1998

        Today was sort of a wasted day. Bob left at around 7:00 a.m. to go play golf and I went back to sleep and slept 'til nearly 10:00. Got up, read and answered email, went to the bank and the Franklin Planner store (for a refill for Bob's planner), had lunch at St. Louis Bread Co., went to the drugstore, came home and took a nap. That's pretty much it. Bob, on the other hand, had a really busy day.

        He played eighteen holes of golf this morning, came home around noon and took a shower, then went out and played another eighteen. Then as he was driving home he remembered that he was supposed to meet some friends for dinner, so he did that, getting home around 9:30 or so, just in time to call his friends to make plans to play golf tomorrow, call his dad to make plans to pick him up tomorrow night and go to the casino, and order a pizza because he didn't get enough to eat at dinner.

        The American Express bill came in the mail on Saturday and there was an $83.00 restaurant charge. I called Bob at work and asked him who he had taken out to dinner, so I could put it on his expense report. "No one," he said, "just me. And it was lunch, not dinner." "You spent $83.00 on lunch??" I asked. "Well, yeah. I guess it was the wine." He tried to tell me that this was during the time he was worried about his health, when he was having the kidney function tests and things and wondering (although we were pretty sure that the problem was a kidney stone) whether he had bladder cancer or something, so he thought he should indulge himself since it might be the last good meal he had . . . Yeah, right.

        Last night while we were having dinner with our friends (another incredibly expensive meal), we were talking again about our fundamental differences with regard to eating and spending money on food. I enjoy a good meal as much as anyone, but it would never occur to me to go out by myself and spend that much on lunch. I spent about $7.50 today, and I thought that was excessive. He said last night that he enjoys the whole process of "dining," while I just look at food as fuel. I suppose that's more or less it.

        I'm not saying that I don't spend money, I spend lots of money. But I do tend to spend money on things that are physical rather than ephemeral--Bob spends his money on food and golf, I spend mine on books, mostly. I suppose those are sort of ephemeral, too, in that I generally don't re-read them. We all have our own favorite things, I guess.

        After Bob got home tonight, and while he was changing his clothes, he said, "Well, you'll have to write about me tonight, about how I played golf twice and went out to dinner," and I said that I would probably write about my day, and he said that he was pretty sure that everyone would much rather read about what he was up to than read about what I did, which he described as, "Had a bowl of soup for lunch, went to the drugstore and bought two toothbrushes, a bar of soap and a pen, wandered around the bookstore, then came home and took a nap." Well, yeah, that was pretty much my day, but I think it was just as interesting, albeit less active, than his . . .

        One thing that I've noticed while I've been off work is what awful drivers the people are who are out during the day. There are two varieties--the people who don't work, who aren't in a hurry, and who drive about ten miles under the speed limit, their arms resting along the back of the seat next to them, looking around and admiring the scenery as it flows past. The other type are people who are probably salespeople, maybe real estate agents or some other outside sales type, who dart in and out of holes in traffic, cell phone at their ear, run red lights and basically take ownership of the road. Frankly, I feel like I'm survived something just to get home in one piece in the afternoon. I'll be sort of glad to get back to work where it's safe.

        I actually will be glad to get back to work. I need more structure, I think. These weeks are great, and I wouldn't trade them for anything, but I'm really not accomplishing much. We always talk about how when Bob's out of town, I sort of feel like I'm just marking time, waiting for him to come back. I enjoy the time alone, it's restful, and this time especially is really good because, for one thing, I'm catching up on my sleep, but he does sort of "bookend" my day or something, give me an event to aim toward maybe .

        Oh! I did buy something kind of cool at the drugstore. New band-aids. Well, not Band-Aids per se, but bandages. A weird brand that I've never heard of, but Curad had some of the same kind of things--tattoo band-aids! They're transparent, with designs printed on the middle part. They're pretty cool. The ones I bought are wildlife prints--dolphins and eagles and pandas. Silly, but fun.