Failing in the filling in

Both masked, we sat at either end of a long table. He is twice my age. “My life is run by this watch now,” he tells me of his Apple Watch. It tries to keep him healthy. It makes him walk around. It knows things about him. Clever stuff, and exposing me for a luddite when this man in his eighties has adopted technology that I have so far avoided. Still, we are in Jersey so everybody wants to sell you a watch, or electronics, and this is both.

In front of us was a form, and I was on hold to the registrar. Neither of us had any idea what a legal entity number is when it’s at home, or how we were supposed to find it, but the form requires it. The registrar doesn’t know either. We can’t send the form without an LEN or it’ll just come back again. Another hurdle, but one we will leap over this time, me fueled by my free lunchtime sandwich and he encouraged by the buzzing of his Apple Watch. In the past they’ve always come back, but I’m gonna work out out. At the end of this trail of paper and numbers and obfuscation surely there’ll be clear proof that it was worth me putting the time in and coming out here to focus on this. Maths. Numbers. I’m very good at taking words from a piece of paper and making them live. I’m great at memory. I’m pretty empathetic when I’m not being selfish. Numbers? They’re a panic spot for me. They flood me so quickly.

I felt like I was the one in my eighties when I left his house. Tomorrow we’ll work it out. I drove home mildly frustrated at meeting another obstacle, and the phone rang. It seems I’m going to be in Dream again, just a day after talking to that nice old stick who is playing Egeus at Samares. A short and delightful event in late summer and something to look forward to. Then another. I got off the phone to a text message. A collaboration, this time in London, all about machines and Victorians. Two things at once, just as I’m starting to try and mold the mess I’ve been passed into a more functional shape. There’s something in the air, and it’s not just pathogens. Things are waking up. I’ll have to make sure I get it done as there are things to come back to now and when that snowball starts rolling, boy does it get hard to stop.

I’m going to get this done and find time to enjoy myself as well. It was a gorgeous day but the rain has come again at night. Tomorrow will be fine again.

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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