8:30 pm: Finally a moment to dance and get my head together. Silly day but all good, leaks are gone and my ceiling is in one piece again. Meanwhile I am beginning to wonder if there is a jinx on the WWII book. Every time I block out time to assemble the complete draft and do for myself what I do for others (which is, see that a book is full of holes and lay out how to get to a decent version) some wholly unexpected silliness occurs. And therefore, dance. But must get it done. Anyone who hears me talk about anything else but this book and dance for the next month, you have my permission to sternly ‘tut’. Or there’s that ‘tschhh’ sounds all annoyed older Indians — which includes me, now — make. And now I dance. I dance, I dance, see how I dance
(The day began with a leak from the bathroom ceiling at early a.m. pre-caffeine, and went on from there. Humpty Dumpty is put together again, but the need to dance is urgent.)
Having danced, I am reminded that bellydancers often imagine themselves moving through water, in order to keep their movements fluid (except of course when they are, very deliberately, not fluid at all). And so today has been a water dance. And nothing, after all, can be better.