Please forgive me if I bitch. It’s 9.30 p.m., I leave early tomorrow for Ottawa, and I have not begun to get ready. Have to pack, water the plants, put out the cat food so that Carol, my upstairs tenant who has just returned from Ecuador, can keep the cat alive. Leave phone numbers, run the dishwasher, put out garbage and recycling, clear out the iffy food from the fridge. Etc.

I do not want to do these things. I don’t want to go to Ottawa. How many times this past year? Many. Porter Air and CP Rail have done well by me. I would like just to stay in my house. The amaryllis Annie gave me is just coming into magnificent frilly pink and white bloom, and the purple hyacinth from Wayson also. I want to watch them bloom. I do not want to fly to a frozen city and clear out more huge piles of paper and stuff, books, vast quantities of files, clothes, music, letters and photographs, dishes and silverware and art supplies, underwear and medication and kitchenware and …

It must be done, and it will be done. But I am weary.

P.S. Just cheered myself up with television. Saw the last chunk of “I remember Mama,” a 1948 film about a girl who wants to be a writer. And what is the lesson she learns at the end, just as she’s about to give up her dream? WRITE WHAT YOU KNOW.  Non-fiction. Instead of fantasy, she writes a true story about her mother; her story is accepted for publication and she receives a cheque for $500!

Wow. $500 in 1948. Lucky writer.

And then I saw some of “The truth about exercise,” a British documentary, which concluded that two things will help you gain a good level of healthy fitness: three minutes of high intensity workout ONCE A WEEK – and constant movement throughout your day. The chair is a killer, said the host. The chair is a killer. Stand. Walk. Take the stairs. Try to keep off your bottom.

So – write what you know, but do it standing up.

And now, time for Jon Stewart. Sometimes, the television set is a source of wisdom and comfort.