Back from the holidays, back to the grind, back to the blog. I’m tapping away here over a lunch break because that’s essentially how I work on the hobbies these days – on the margins.
Weirdly, I think it’s more productive at times to squeeze things into the barely-there moments of the day. There’s pressure to get it in. A metaphorical time-demon breathing down your neck claiming that if you don’t do something now, you’ll never do it and your dreams will be washed away in a river of workday malaise and dinner-time discontent. The TV doesn’t demand so much, after all.
The Outback Steakhouse I explored for dinner last night had an odd little thing on the lip of the bar. A wooden tray of sorts set on the curved edge of the bar itself. Because I always sit at the bar when dining alone if I can help it. Seems more sociable.
Anyway, the tray’s presumed purpose was to set the plate of food on it so you wouldn’t have to reach over the lip of the bar. I found it was a perfect place to set the laptop and type away. The mahi mahi, somewhat bland but serviceable, was devoured without incident regardless. In short, more bars should have these little things. Multi-purpose. Facilitating the working traveler. Also, outlets. Can we not just get outlets everywhere, all the time?
Lastly, I cannot stress enough the invaluable nature of the notebook. Even if you’re a mad typist, a flinger of phalanges who’s rubbed all the letters off of the keys, having a small little booklet to scribble some inspiration into is crucial. On a recent flight where, due to a practitioner of that Satanic art of seat reclining, I had no space to open the computer, the notebook served as a scratch pad to plot out an entire novel. It was fun, inventive, to watch the contents of my mind leak out through the pen. There’s a veracity there that doesn’t always translate to the screen. Like drinking a favorite beer, a sense that this is something special.