Rant #3,766: Dreamtime

How can a supposedly retired person be sooooooo busy?

Let me count the ways ...

I am being inundated by my work with things to do.

I mean, there is no brain surgery work here, but it is constant, and doesn't give me any time to breathe.

I now have a meeting to attend later this morning, added to another meeting that was already set up for Friday morning.

My place of business is putting together an online publication covering military resale--military stores--and there is just so much to do to get it ready for publication.

I remember getting the print publication I last worked for ready to go--

But I was working full-time then, so it came with the territory.

Now, as a remote and supposedly retired worker ... well, let's just politely say that I guess at this point in time, nearly six years removed from that last full-time position, I guess I am "out of shape" for all of this.

Again, I am not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, but--

I will stop there. I will let you figure it all out.

So, with all of that in mind--and with everything else going on with myself and my family--I am pooped--

Tired, worn out, and i just need some time to breathe.

I certainly can't do it right now, but maybe you can help me out here.

I have the latest chapter of my novel in this Rant, and please take a few minutes to read it.

It is a short chapter, and I hope you will enjoy it.

In the meantime, let me rest.

34

The day came quickly.

Abraham Lincoln Panim woke up, looked in the bathroom mirror several times before he went into the shower. When he was done, he shaved, and put on a special aftershave that Mrs. Stottle bought him years ago that he had never used.

He then got dressed, and decided to really get dressed to the hilt, picking out his best suit and tie to wear to meet his father for the first time.

“My real ‘Sunday Best’ to make me look even better than I already do,” he thought to himself, admiring himself in his hand mirror numerous times before he was done.

He finally emerged from his room, and went into the living room, waiting for his mother to be ready to go.

In a few minutes time, she was done, and she was dressed in business attire, but nothing out of the ordinary.

“Abraham Lincoln Panim, why are you dressed like that?” his mother asked him. “You are dressed like you are going out on a big date. And that smell … why did you dunk yourself in aftershave like that?

“We are going to see your father. We aren’t going to a wedding, or a bar mitzvah—“

“I wanted to dress my best to ‘impress.’ I want my father to see how good I look.”

“Don’t you think it is more important for your father to find out who you are, your accomplishments, how you have matured, rather than what you look like?”

“It is all in the wrapping. If the outside wrapping is so attractive, it just makes everything else … well, not second best … but it helps to have a good wrapping. First impressions are very important—“

“Your father said he is dying. Your father just wants to meet you. He doesn’t care if you looked like you once did. He doesn’t care at all. He just wants you to be there—“

“Yes, but I want him to see what he has missed when he skipped out of here. He missed you and he missed me—“

“No, Abraham Lincoln Panim, he missed the old you, the boy who did what he had to do to get by, who wasn’t so stuck up with his appearance that nothing else mattered.”

“Mom, I was stuck up on my appearance back then, but just the opposite way. I hated the way I looked, with that rat face. People made fun of me, I couldn’t even barely go outside without people looking at me.

“Now, I can go outside and do whatever I want because people admire me. They look at me and think, ‘That is the way I want to look.’ But they know they can’t look this good. I give them hope … and don’t forget, I always wear my scarf to remind me where I was, and where I am now.”

“You have become … I don’t know … you have become more vain about your looks then you were before. What would Mrs. Stottle say about all of this?”

“Mrs. Stottle … Mrs. Stottle would admire me too.”

After that remark, Mrs. Panim gave her son a long glare. Her son saw her eyes, and they seemed to be red and tearing.

“Enough about that,” she said through the tears. “Let’s go and see your father. And please, for me, please just act like you really are, not like you are acting today or during the last several weeks.

“Please, if not for yourself, please do it for me.”

Abraham Lincoln Panim got his jacket and wrapped his scarf around his neck. He then helped his mother on with her coat.

“Son,” Mrs. Panim said as the looked at the envelope of the letter her husband sent her, “I think we will walk there, It doesn’t seem to be too far away.”

The mother and son left their home to take a walk together, something they had not done in a while. She thought that the walk would do them good, clear out both of their heads and make them focus on what they were going to be doing.

Abraham Lincoln Panim had other thoughts.

“OK, so we are going to walk. That is great. It is a nice day out, people will be around, and I know that they will look at me … and think I look great!”