A Day In The Life, Part One

Looking out the windows of the upstairs office. I watch the wind blowing through the trees as dark clouds march across the sky. Sabella, our youngest cat, sits on a box and watches the movement of the outside world. She’s only marginally interested in what’s going on in here. Her proximity is her simple statement of affection.
A stack of padded envelopes lie at my feet. I have thirteen turntable belt orders to pack and ship. Victoria is having lunch with her daughter somewhere, so the rest of the cats are wandering in, one by one. Baggins and Boo meander about the room, fascinated by my recent cleaning. They’re always intrigued when I move things around.
I’m going to get these orders packed so I can work on music. My band is going to play through as much of our show as we can tomorrow night, and I haven’t had nearly as much time to work on the songs as I need. My back is burning somewhat, as it usually does. The voices in my head ponder if it might be cancer; if my number may have come up at last. It would certainly explain the constant low-level pain. But I know that’s silly. Just because a cousin died of cancer last week doesn’t mean every ache and pain is the approach of the end. But in my family there seems to be only two ways out. Advanced old age or cancer.
I want to write some today, as well. The band is great and I look forward  to playing and making some money, but it feels like mis-spent energy. We’re playing great songs, but they’re still other people’s songs. It still feel like I’m not doing what I was put here to do. If I’m remembered when I’m gone, it won’t be for how well I played a few old ZZ Top songs.
Well, there’s work to be done. I have a whole other set of orders waiting for me in the queue. The cats have settled in for their naps while I work. The fan is blowing soft breezes upon my skin. My back hurts. My neck hurts. The wind blows through the trees. I’d best get on with it before I waste another day to time’s insatiable appetite.