A Tisket a Tasket ...

My basket is full.

This is my dear friend, Dana, describes how she feels when she has a lot to say. She told me once that every evening before they go to sleep, she empties her basket to her husband, and then she can rest.

I have no where to dump my basket.

This is why it is not good that Amy should live alone or without a pretty constant companionship of someone. I just have to have someone (or multiple people) to decompress with.

It goes something like this: I start my day by talking to Dana on IM, telling her about all sorts of things and listening (reading) her tell me about things. Then I come to work, and tell Abigail all of those things, and other things, and get the same back. After that I go home, where eventually I see Luke, and get to tell him all those things, more things and new things. And then my basket is empty. Sometimes there is even more to say, so I blog it or journal it.

I feel the loneliest when my basket is full and I have no where to put it. Dana is on a cruise. The boy is off shooting stuff. Abigail has family in town.

And I feel very, very lonely.

I did get to do one of my favorite things today for about 15 minutes -- talk about D.C. with someone. I love, love that city and talking about it and all its haunts and finer points makes me feel so ... good. I don't know why.

Also, I accomplished something major today. A great mystery involving one of our customers was solved by yours truly. The mystery was this: what does he actually DO!?

This guy drives a very nice convertible, leaves large tips (sometimes as much as $8 for his coffee), meets his wife and step-kid here at the coffee shop for lunch a few times a week, and lives in a huge house in a very expensive part of town. From talking to them I learned he works from home (supported by the fact that I always see him in jeans and fleece), frequently visits his family beach house and travels to Washington D.C. about once a month on business.

Not for our life could we figure out what he does. I had concluded that he was some sort of defense contractor who does periodic meetings with high level officials in D.C. but mostly works from home. Abigial couldn't figure out what he does.

We decided: we must ask.

So far from D.C. and my random connections and general "I know everyone or at least know someone who knows the people I dont know" state (for the love, I worked daily with members of congress and went to the same church as John Ashcroft for a year or two), I would've never expect this kind of connection ... no here, anyway... but nonetheless here, sitting in my coffee house on the other side of the country, I discovered that these people are the offspring/executive assistant of this man.

Random. And I miss D.C. and the weird connections-are-power phenomenon that comes with it. Not only would have never guessed that they are so politically well connected, but they don't seem to care at all. They have never mentioned it. They don't really look the part ... as if it doesn't matter to them even the tiniest bit. If this were D.C., it would be worn on their sleeve or, if wasn't, it wouldn't matter because everyone would know it already.