(If you're like me, you find most "day in the life" articles boring, so i won't be offended if you skeddadle quick. A friend once requested posts of this nature, so here i am. I suspect however, that this may be the only one i write. The non-egotistical challenge is to pick a day when nothing amazing happens. You can choose a random date ahead of time, but then there's the temptation to do something you might otherwise not have. I decided midway through today that today would be the day, and the only change in my behavior is that i chose not to briefly watch a televised football game...i've been distancing myself from spectator sports for years, but i do love those Peyton commercials.)
In the middle of a quickly-forgotten intense dream, i awaken to my alarm clock at 5:45AM. I rarely use it, but today i have a moving job at 8 in Brooklyn. A similar train/bike journey this week from my temporary home here in Jersey City took me exactly an hour, but i give myself more time, as the weekend PATH train service is irregular.
I've been doing small moves for five or six years, the past three almost exclusively with a tiny company. It says a lot that i would give up my usual freelance ways. Moving Forces is run by a dedicated kook named Robin. His German heritage manifests in an almost military attitude (including uniforms...we actually had to talk him down from full military gear, with medals), and his Brazilian heritage manifests in the ducky stickers he puts on pay envelopes. That i would wear any uniform at all, is quite something. I've never written about my moving jobs because, despite occasional moments, they've never felt fascinating enough. I like constantly meeting and helping new people, and if i'm not doing something creative, i love work that is purely physical.
Yogeesh, with whom i'm staying, is flying off on a business trip. He said he'd leave around 3, and i told him i'd probably be home before then. It's a two-person job today, loading and unloading with my best friend in the company, Mike. The client is Laura. I spoke to her on the phone yesterday, and she sounded nice.
For breakfast, i have Raisin Nut Bran and rice milk. I watch some of the Cuba episode of WEST WING...since it's one of the lamer episodes, i don't mind keeping the sound very low.
Arrived at Journal Square station, only a block away, i have to wait for the World Trade Center train longer than i'd hoped. There are no Jersey bridges to Manhattan except the GWB, many miles north, so i'm stuck. Arrived in Manhattan, i pedal to the Manhattan Bridge, and i'm on time in Brooklyn, barely. Laura is delightful. She has a mate, and they have a great attitude, happy to pitch in. He seems a decent fellow, but i find Laura compelling and attractive, and somewhere in that is the thought that i'd be better for her than he. Pretty spiritually stunted, yes? She's intelligent, athletic, centered, quirky, and genuine. Throughout the day, i suspect that she's attracted to my vibration, too...she and i end up together too many times for it to be coincidence, or just my own attraction playing out.
They have too much stuff for one trip, but fortunately they're only moving six blocks. They're on the second floor, up a long flight, and i'm wearing braces, as i have minor repetitive stress knee injuries. Unspokenly, i assume responsibility for packing the truck (Mike knows about my knees). But even with stairs on both ends today, my knees suffer no tenderness. At their new place, the work gets more intense. It's on the third floor, and the labor is non-stop...a long straightaway, then up and down stairs with heavy loads. They couldn't get as as many small boxes as they wanted, so there are big boxes of tremendous weight. I sing "Give Up the Funk" and "Beast of Burden" as i work. In hour three, my arms get a little rubbery. I'm in great calisthenic shape...but in winter, moving jobs dry up, and this is my first move in over a month. Different muscles. Eventually, i feel my feet charley horsing, something that happens maybe once a year, my right pinky toe seizing and flipping over. I work through it without slowing down.
We return for the second load. The clients order pizza. Ever since my infatuation with a vegan girl last month, i've returned to nearly vegan ways, but i'll eat pizza today.
We finish up, working 5.5 hours. It wasn't the toughest move ever, but it was perhaps the toughest when i wasn't in moving shape. All throughout, i'd been trying to decide what to do with my feeling for Laura. I want to give her my card...but i don't. It's a tough call, spiritually. Their relationship seems happy, and i want to cherish that, but i'm ever-increasingly uncomfortable living in a society which says the feelings she and i have are "wrong", or that they have to be treated as some threat. As we all part ways, there is plenty of opportunity for me to say anything to her...again, no coincidence on her part, i think. She even forgets something, requiring one final walk by me after they're already in the empty van, ready to go. With my final words to her, "I hope our paths cross again", i try to walk the excruciatingly fine line between sincere and pointed. As i ride home, it's hard to not think of calling her tomorrow, to thank her for her great attitude and lovely tip.
There was one more human who had a part in this play...in the last hour, an estate agent came to show a room in the complex. I noticed her beautiful, bouncy hair from far away, and told her so. We seemed to have a connection, and i almost pursued it, but didn't...partly out of devotion to Laura, partly because she maybe wasn't my type physically, and partly because i suspected she and i didn't have so much in common. Perhaps my thoughts tarried on her so i could sublimate my feelings for Laura, or perhaps it was just a testament to the non-exclusive power of sexual attraction.
After muscles charley horse, they stay fluttery for hours sometimes. On my bike trip back into Manhattan, it's misty, so my brakes are dodgy. At one point, another biker pulls in front of me, and i have to slam my feet to the ground. My right foot goes into a paralyzing seizure, much worse than the earlier toe flip. I'm in a bit of a semi-stupor from the day's effort, and know i'll feel the effects for another day or more. I wonder how many pounds i lifted today...thousands? On days like these, i like to treat myself to takeout. I finish my pizza on the train, then back in Jersey i get a Naked protein juice smoothie (my favorite beverage), and a banana (potassium is good for charley horses, i hear), and some potato kathi rolls. Arrived home, it's around 3, and Yogeesh is gone. I watch the rest of the Cuba episode as i eat, then part of "In God We Trust". My muscles are in such a profound state that when i get up after eating, the pain in my torso makes me cry out. My fingers(!) are even affected, as i can't fully "grasp". I take a long, hot, wonderful shower. As much as i always try to appreciate what i have, it takes a day like this, and imagining NOT having access to a shower, to make one really appreciative. I check e-mails, apartment ads, and make one call, but it's too far from the city...i check W4M personal ads, nothing there either. I walk and feed April, Yogeesh's dog. Rubbing athlete's foot cream into my right foot, it seizes again.
I picked up a Sunday paper, the only paper i occasionally read. I read Doonesbury, and skim the entertainment and sports sections, and my weariness makes me fully nap-ready, but amazingly i don't quite fall asleep, though i'm down for an hour. I call my brother, and share with him the silly news that the Cowsills have re-formed. I work on this article, until i get hungry. The kathi roll was too spicy, so i'm not done giving myself treats. I order Chinese...scallion pancakes, and fried tofu with broccoli and brown rice. I watch the rest of the WEST WING episode, Alan Alda is great...and the "Bounty" episode of ENTERPRISE. It's 11 when i return to writing. My strange day has resulted in some flatulence so stanky i nearly disgust myself. I check ads and e-mails again...the only one is from a penpal in Nova Scotia who thinks we may have a soul mate connection. She's written a blog article about an ongoing feminism debate we're having, but i don't have the emotional strength to read it. Our connection has been tough since she told me about the soul mate stuff...i've had too many spirit-scraping online romances which never translated to love in the real world, and i'm so battered and in need of simple physical healing.
In order to circulate healing energy and because orgasmic waves feel so wonderful, i do some taoist self-love (i.e. masturbation). I check in on the computer one last time, then at 1AM i head off to slumber...
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