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Thursday, June 20, 1996
At around 10:00 p.m. tonight, summer began. Humidity and high temps preceded it, so the news of summer's actual arrival seemed anticlimactic and unnecessary. It's also the longest day of the year, which means from here on until the December solstice, we're losing light.
Rick and I are in OC again. After dire reports of possible heavy rains from Tropical Storm Arthur, we've gotten mostly sun, a few clouds, and some rain this afternoon. A few rumbles of thunder and that's it. Rick has been kicking himself endlessly for not bringing the bikes.
We rode the Ferris wheel tonight and took a walk on the pier. The pier is now blocked off, and they charge $.50 per person for the privilege of walking on it. How much pier maintenance can $.50 per person be buying? It's odd.
I brought my typewriter and actually wrote two pages yesterday. Hopefully, I'll write tomorrow, too.
We ate at Libby's tonight. It was pretty good. I had stuffed flounder, and Rick had a seafood platter.
Sunday, June 23, 1996
We came back from Ocean City today. It was a great day for traveling.
I should go to bed. I thought about watching "Rumpole", but it's not starting until 12:30.
Tomorrow, I must write. I finished chapter 6 at the beach, though I'm not sure I like it all that much.
I should shop tomorrow. And organize my room. Maybe make some phone calls.
Oddly, I don't feel terribly compelled to do anything very significant. Maybe not so oddly.
Wednesday, June 26, 1996
Today I had my interview at SSA. It went very well. It almost felt like a done deal, but hey, you never know. I'm supposed to hear back in a couple of weeks.
It was a beautiful day. California weather. Bright sun, dark shadows. The kind of day you want to hang onto forever.
Rick and I rode our bikes over to the ball field where Alex (next door) was playing Little League ball. It was a great night for a ride.
The only low spot was the O's game. They led until the eighth-inning—and ended up losing 6-5.
Friday, June 28, 1996
I was reading an old journal I kept, a few months after I opened my office. I was so diligent, even if I only wrote two lines. I also tended to write about my feelings a lot.
How do I feel now? Relieved, relaxed, and ready to do something else.
I close the bank accounts at C&F today. As I told the girl, it's the end of an era.
Meanwhile, I have almost 8 chapters written.
My handwriting was so neat in the other journal. What happened?
Friday, June 29, 1996
I'm not keeping them daily, but I'm doing pretty well with these journals.
I had an interview with Andy Young at SSA earlier this week. It went very well. I'm supposed to hear something in 2-3 weeks. Perhaps it will take longer. I always assume the government will take longer than they say.
Meanwhile, I keep writing letters and making phone calls.
There's quite a contrast between my journal now and at the time I first opened my office. Live and learn, right?
What's the lesson, then? I learned that I can create order from chaos. I can organize and run a business. I can handle clients' cases from start to finish. I've appeared before judges. I never did do a trial, but oh well.
Running a business can be fun, but the private practice of law is murder. There's a lesson to be learned.
Meanwhile, though life is like a summer vacation, I can't lose my sense of discipline. I closed my bank accounts. I've been released from my pending cases. I need to send copies of the orders to my former clients. I need to do a final correspondence to all former clients. Then cancel my malpractice insurance. That'll do it, I guess.
I've been writing almost every day. It's good to have the time to do this.
Now, I have to figure out how to structure my life to allow a job plus writing. It's a question of wanting it, I'm convinced. It's also a question of following through.
Not following through means not achieving. The sweater for Rick—an example of not following through. Lesson—take each project seriously. If you don't, don't take it on. Don't waste time on stuff you don't really believe in.
We went to see Twister today. It blew.
Sunday, June 30, 1996
Rick and I went to a party today at the Gelfmans' house. What a house. An ornate entrance, or should I say "foyer", with a marble floor. The indoor pool. The spacious back deck that wraps around the pool area. It was a house built for large parties. A politician's house.
Not to be snide about the whole thing. It was a nice party. Hot. Rick and I were outside, since everyone we knew seemed to be out there.
I need to focus my energy on finishing chapter 8 and starting chapter 9 tomorrow. I sense a stall, and I don't want to indulge myself by wasting time.
