In my dreams, in my fantasies about an efficient, productive pattern to my activities, I envision Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday as work days. I don't schedule appointments or social events and I plan to stay at home most of the time, writing and reading through the day. Thursdays and Fridays are my "gallivanting" days -- my spiritual study group Thursday mornings, errands, appointments, shopping, etc.

My work days, of course, were about shot this week. I did manage to write in my journal every day, and I did several pieces for this space, but my fiction work, put away at Thanksgiving, has remained there, packed in a crate nestled behind the television cart in the kitchen.

Yesterday was a normal Thursday. I went to the church group in the morning, where the topic was funerals and death rituals in traditions other than ours. Several of us had been to Mr. Rosenthal's funeral, including the pastor, and we'd been struck by how much the language of eternal life informed the liturgy and pervaded the rabbi's remarks. For all I think I know about other faiths and other ways of living, especially Judaism, this took me by surprise. It was a good session, our first since before the holidays, and it was good to be together again.

Afterward I went to several appointments and then came home and took a nap. I don't usually cook on Thursdays, depending on leftovers if we're all together. Lynn is away through Saturday, staying with a family in the school district that is hosting the coral festival. Usually we watch Friends together after her flute lesson, but last night I put it on tape for us to enjoy together next week, and went to the township meeting instead.

I've followed the doings at our township commissioners' meetings since I became interested in the career of Josh Wilson, 8th Ward representative. The issue that has stirred the most passion and emotion since Josh began serving in 2001 is a developer's plans for a 95-acre tract just across the road from the entrance to our neighborhood. I had some conversations with him about that, and later did some work for him when he ran for election (he'd begun his career as an appointee) and then helped him with setting up the scholarship award he sponsors with his commissioner's stipend.

Last night there was no burning issue. The commissioners authorized the payment of bills amounting to about $300,000, issued commendations to two police officers, one who saved a toddler who'd fallen into a basement sump and another whose quick action pushed a stranded motorist out of the way of a speeding truck just before it sheared off the door of his car, and approved the painting of a crosswalk requested by my church congregation, which has acquired a property on the other side of the road. They heard also from a resident of a bordering township who wants my township's help in fighting the proposal of the state highway department to demolish forty-five homes and businesses and turn the village road they are on into a freeway.

And of course, there was the trash controversy. At a meeting in the summer I heard the head of the trash company which holds an exclusive contract for our township explain why there had been some problems with our trash removal. I learned a lot that night about weights and measures of trash, OSHA regulations about limits on trash collectors' hours, and differences in the needs of commercial and household customers. Since August, however, things have gotten worse instead of better. One week recently they were three days late, another time they came on the right day but at about dawn, before most people had their trash out.

Several commissioners said they were tired of getting e-mails and phone calls from their constituents complaining about the trash service. I was amazed -- it would never have occurred to me to complain to Josh about this! So I wrote to him last night in defense of our contracted hauler. They have recently redesigned the bill to make it more informative and easier to read, I told him. That's something, if only as an alternative to actually picking up the trash efficiently.

Today I took a long, head-clearing trip. Lynn needs new shin guards and special shoes for her indoor hockey season which begins on Sunday. There is a place specializing in women's sports gear about 90 miles from here. They have much better stuff and a wider selection than you'll find at a general sports place in a mall. They do have quick mail order, but getting that together was another thing that fell through the cracks this week.

It's a pleasant drive, and only fifteen minutes farther on is the fabulous Mall at King of Prussia, where you can delight in the wares of Macy's, Tiffany's, Hermes of Paris, and Nieman-Marcus.

So I visited all those stores. At Hermes I asked the price of a leather portfolio soft as butter. $2000, so I didn't ask if it came in red. At Nieman-Marcus I looked at the bargain table in small leather goods -- $1000 pen cases marked down to $650. I did buy something at Macy's -- Clinique Dramatically Different Moisturizer in a pump bottle instead of the difficult-to-use plain bottle. 

I had a late lunch at a specialty salad place and meditated on the realization that the fact I can't afford anything in those stores does not matter. I don't want those things. I have everything I need to make me happy. I have the resources to travel 85 miles to buy something my daughter wants. I have people I love with whom I can share the sorrow of our recent loss. I know how to get past this pain and I have a future waiting to be lived. I looked through the doors of Tiffany's at the people shopping there and thought, I might be the richest person here.

And I drove home ready to get back to normal, or whatever normal will disguise itself as in the days and weeks to come.