Routine sets in

I've been a drudge this weekend. Spent all of yesterday home alone, working, and much of today. I've read over 200 pages of the manuscript I'm proofing--still have to do several separate indices. It's going to be a pain and an ongoing project. Sometimes I enjoy the work, and sometimes I sneak off to read my latest mystery on the Kindle.
I've also been eating too much, but, gosh, I have all this good stuff in the fridge. Ham salad, which makes a great sandwich; tuna cakes I made last night and served myself with stir-fried asparagus, mushrooms and scallion; hoppin' john on grits. It all tastes so good--my trouble is I like my own cooking.
Today I realized how much time it takes me to get routine things done if I don't have to go anywhere--I got up at 7:30, read the paper, rode my bicycle, picked up a few things around thehouse, showered, shampooed, put on make-up, made the bed and chose clothes for the afternoon--and it was 11:00 o'clock. That's surely no way to set the world on fire. I had an early lunch, early nap, and was dressed and ready at 3:30 when my boss came by. We went to the memorial service for a friend who collapsed and died suddenly Dec. 23 in the Madrid airport--on the way to Venice with his wife for Christmas. I knew Harry Antrim and liked him a lot--the phrase that comes to my mind now when I think of him is "A life well lived." He was passionate about literature and books, cooking, and probably Mary, his wife. I used to meet him on Saturday mornings in Central Market and jokingly ask him what was for dinner--he always had some grand plan. When they were here for tree trimming, he was anxious to get Mary home to the quail he'd coooked. I know Mary much  better and ache for her, but I also trust her to tell me when she needs me--until then I'll leave her alone to deal with what she must face.
I have many good friends who are Episcopalians, but I must confess the service was hard for me to follow. I was constantly going from prayer book to hymnal and lost half the time. I got to thinking every church has its rituals, and I know and love those of my church. But this was too high church, too many prayers by rote. I didn't take communion, because I was cautious about going to the altar, kneeling, etc. Just not the way I'm used to doing things. I sat with friends who were raised in the Catholic Church, and they were able to followo the service much more easily than I was.
Came home to have wine with Sue, my neighbor, who is probably going to move. Her landlady is selling the house, and Sue has found a larger, better house that she can afford. I thinkshe should move, but I will sorely miss her as a neighbor.
So it's been a mixed day--not one of great joy but one with a sense of dealing with what life brings you--and getting a little work done besides. Tomorrow I go to the office and dig into work for sure.