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2002-10-20 - 8:50 p.m.

My mind is still functioning pretty well, but most of my body seems to be in some stage of rebellion tonight. It has been a weekend of hard work and all kinds of muscles I haven't been using are now sending urgent messages to my brain: What the hell is going on up there? Unfortunately I am not going to be able to placate them with a vacation any time soon. Or maybe just sitting in the office tomorrow will seem like a respite.

I spent Saturday helping Cary and Kim on the house they are remodeling. All of the processes are coordinated on a tight schedule, and lately they have been at the house working every spare minute. They are racing against the clock to have all the painting done before the carpet guys come this week. And both Cary and his business partner John have had work obligations from their "real" jobs interfering with getting things done. So I volunteered to help. I spent the day painting kitchen cabinets. Well, first scrubbing down all the greasy cabinet drawers and door fronts, and then applying several coats of primer and then glossy white enamel paint. It is a job I have done before and I'm pretty good at that tedious brush painting. And it was a good feeling to see so much progress, to see the dark, battered wooden cabinets turn into smooth white surfaces, and the kitchen begin to look light and bright. But I did in one day what I would have spent several days on under ideal conditions. And did it all crawling around on the floor, since there was no other place to set up the doors. So my back is screaming tonight. (Not that I would let them know that.) Sometimes you just have to override your body... tell it sit down and shut up, or bribe it to keep going a little longer.

I actually enjoyed myself though: I kind of secretly like manual labor. I like being able to work hard and have the satisfaction of seeing the results spread out before me, an improvement to the quality of the world in some small way. And I love seeing all of Cary's handiwork: the smooth, flawless walls and trim, the perfectly balanced new doors. This was his first time to turn his hand to this kind of construction,and he is proud of how well it all came together. And it was a great feeling when Cary gave me a big hug and thanked me for giving up my Saturday to help. I just kinda grinned and said, "That's what Moms are for." But of course it is more than that. We always help each other. He has put in some long days helping us build fences, clean up the yard, replace plumbing. It is the way our family works. We all know we can ask each other for help, and we all make it a priority to help when asked.

Such a precious connection. Maybe the only antidote, on the karmic scale, to the ugliness and casual cruelty I see in the world around me. I try not to think that people are evil, or even believe in it, but then sometimes it works its way into our lives, and I don't know what else to call it. I once supervised a person who made it her mission in life to do everything she could to destroy me personally and professionally. It was my first brush with evil, and I have never forgotten how chilling it is to realize that you are up against a person who has no scruples and no conscience. I revisited that feeling this weekend, as Skootie and I spent a lot of hours talking about her boss. She is always telling me all the horribly abusive things this woman does. The boss' behavior is illegal as well as immoral and unethical, but because she is rich and powerful, she thinks nobody can stop her and she is probably right. How can someone who has everything be so focused on using her power to hurt other people? I suppose "the problem of evil" is a whole philosophical question that I can't begin to address in a paragraph. But it makes me sick that somebody I love has to spend her days being treated so badly and I can't do anything about it. All we can do is to talk about it, and try to build up her mental and emotional defenses. She is learning to be strong, and probably thicker skinned than a sensitive person should ever have to be. We're keeping focused on getting through the next few months.... just so she can finish the master's degree, and then be in a better position to look for another job. I am not the type to be future-focused, but I keep going there because now has to change.

So today Skootie and I got right up and started in on the notebooks. Again. More. Still. The ongoing project that has a hold of our lives. Our friend who was going to help didn't show up, so while we worked, we talked about plots for novels we might write and what we could do to improve the kitchen someday. And we talked about the evil one, of course, and decided that Skootie should no longer refer to her as "my boss" but as "the director" just in case names really do have psychological power.

We notebooked for most of the day, until we took a break to run out to the new target store and have an early dinner at our favorite Chinese restaurant. We keep fantasizing about what we are going to do: when the notebooks are done, when she graduates and gets another job, when we are out of debt. We have agreed never to take on any freelance jobs again. Somehow it always ends up being more trouble than it is worth. But I keep focused on this one, because it is a step toward freedom, a step toward the day when life is not all about work. I'll be doing the happy dance when that day comes.

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