After The Storm
I mislaid my signature black cap the other day (actually, one of my sons absconded with it and left it in his bedroom, a place I would never have thought to look in), and that small annoyance took on an almost supernatural import for me. I looked everywhere, traced my steps, when through the dirty clothes. Nothing.
I have retrieved the cap, and the whole minor upset is over, but… in the meantime I felt like I had lost some equilibrium, some sense of equipoise, my internal gyro off-kilter.
Meanwhile, the world of work continues to delight and confound: we are recruiting great minds, while consulting is a mixed bag of exciting, new technologies and occasionally intransigent clients.
March is a traitorous month: turning its coat from 70 degrees on Monday to single digits last night, and covering the just-awakening crocuses in my front yard beds with a skim of frozen white. I ache for fresh release, a true spring.
