10.17.2001 (Wednesday), 11:50 PM

Disappearing Act

The familiar snore of Albert sleeping under the Battlestar Galactica, that and drop d tuning...

I put the headphones on and everything goes away. I can't answer the phone. I can't tell when Gypsy has peed on the floor (she's incontinent, poor girl...). The television pleads silently. Cars, planes and the neighbourhood go right away.

The only one who can always see me is Albert. He sleeps at my feet or at my side. He doesn't care what I'm doing or if I'm paying attention--he is just there. And he always knows where I am in the house. He's under the music desk as I write this, snoring away. If I leave the room, he follows. He returns to his "spot" when I return to the keyboard.

I don't mind that he doesn't buy my disappearing act. When I'm traveling (and I used to be in Japan 3-4 times a year) he still doesn't buy it. He waits for hours on the carpet near the front door waiting for me to come home. The first time Jan told me this, it brought tears to my eyes. I just couldn't believe that he would do that...I thought he was all eat-sleep-play.

I think he's got the right idea though. You know where you're the most comfortable and you spend as much time in that "spot" as possible. When you can't do that, you wait for the comfort to come back. I think that I need to be on that level once in a while--if only for my own peace of mind.

Posted by wjc