I want to stay very close to the bone today and rather close to home. My day entails driving into Provincetown and putting up posters and circulating postcards with the wrong information on it. But never mind. I will do this in the afternoon, now as I have other things that have invaded my morning plans. Like talking to the “manager” (I think he’s an accountant) of the first ever individual to break a contract.
That conversation was okay. I sort of knew the guy. Anyway didn’t feel like going to Provincetown, the weather is too iffy. Went into town for the daily pound of fish and fresh vegetable. Really nothing as grand as this place in summer. Well there are other things but this is pretty good. I do love the open ocean and I do love the beaches on Cape Cod. There’s nothing like them anywhere really. So I’ll have to come up with a formula for keeping a strong foothold here. I might just look around for another year-round rental when the time comes. I’m in such a groove here I really am. And in just a matter of hours Stella will be finished with school and we’ll really be on the same page, working together, other than with clients, for the first time in a long time.
We’re going to take a trip. First we’ll go to Boston for a couple nights. Then we’ll hang out in Provincetown for my birthday. Then we head to New York later that week to stay at the Marleton while Stella does her show at Dixon Place. Then back to Wellfleet for Oyster Fest and then off we go to London, with a side trip to Suffolk, Edinburgh and Paris. We’re going to stay at the Portobello Hotel in our old Notting Hill hood. The Cow is still in operation. I wonder if it’s still good. But anyway, that whole area is such a treat to walk around in. We’re going to have such fun there after spending a long weekend in the countryside with close friends, we can see clients and meet on our creative business projects at the Portobello. I definitely need a whole new wardbrobe, but not before I shed a little weight.
On that score I have put us on a diet after our calories debaucle in Maine. So we are eating salad and salmon for lunch everyday, pretty much, and different variations on a celery-soup theme at night. My body is currently playing chicken with me, refusing to show weight loss on the scale, but my clothes are already fitting better and my face is no longer a fully inflated red rubber ball, though still only slightly deflated. It’s all of a piece: This sense of gearing up for something—for preparing for ones good. I’m readying myself for the rentrée, and I do have quite a lot of city hopping to do. For this I must go shoe shopping, which I will, in New York, in October. That’s going to be a bit of indulge. I deserve it that’s for sure. That and weekly massages. But it’s all coming I can feel it.
Typos happen—I don’t have time or an intern to edit.*
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