January 19, 2008

This is it...day 1 in Georgia. I arrived about 10 last night, several hours after Elliott. When he leaves tomorrow, we’ll be limited to weekends and occasional weeks together. Part of me is dreading this, but there’s also a (growing) part of me that’s not at all troubled to be on my own. We do things differently, and sometimes that’s good and sometimes that’s not. I tend to charge in and (try to) get things done—doing it myself if I have to, hiring out if it’s easier (and nine times out of ten I opt for the easiest route). Elliott analyzes and ponders and cogitates and investigates and eventually does whatever he thinks is the right thing to do. And usually it is the right way to go, but so much time has gone by I’ve moved on, lost interest, gotten frustrated, or decided I didn’t want to do whatever it was we had wanted to do in the first place.

Anyway, it’s gray, dreary, and cold. We have a homeowners’ association meeting this afternoon and it’s promising to be contentious. I don’t understand why people get so angry with each other over the piddliest little things. No, that’s not accurate—I understand why some people do—usually they say it’s a matter of principle—I just don’t think it’s going help get things done. People here tend to file lawsuits and ask questions later instead of the other way around.

Later

I’ve met some neighbors and individually they are all (so far) decent people. Granted, they’re all motivated by their own personal concerns—putting forth their own agendas—but face it, who isn’t?

We’re off for “cocktails” with Pat and Charlie, next door.