It is 0840 Jamaica time, which is one hour behind Eastern. I am sitting on my balcony with serviceable wifi typing out this little ditty while I avoid a never-ending crush of work. You see, I am NOT on vacation here in Jamaica. At least not solely on vacation. More than anything, this was a change of venue, taken with the full knowledge that I would have to work while I was here, but taken anyway in the spirit of blue skies and inner peace. This winter took a bit out of me, what with all the snow, the surgery, the dieting, etc. I know I sound like a big wuss, but by the middle of March--when the kittens trundled off to tropical climes in Mexico, I decided to act. There's a great book called "The Four Hour Work-Week" by a guy called Tim Ferris. Ferris is a bit of a polymath, and the techniques he advocates are generally speaking, simply beyond the capability of most people who work in normal, honorable jobs. But I don't. I'm a consultant with a Navy pension. And while that doesn't mean a ton of money, it means decent money and the freedom to work as I will. There is some classified work in my portfolio, but it is all done in secure environments, mostly the Pentagon. The overwhelming majority of the rest of my work is done right here at this computer (or the one on my desk at the ManCave), and so in essence, as long as I have connectivity, it doesn't matter where I work. Getting back to Ferris, he is a big fan (for people with jobs like me) of simply combining leisure and work in places that make one feel better. That's why I am here.
Today, I will write this blog (leisure). I will put together some ideas for a presentation for a senior executive (work). I will go on a nature walk (leisure). I will mark a War College paper or two (work). I will have a nice French dinner (leisure). I will cogitate for a while on a study I've been hired to do (work). And I will watch college basketball at one of the bars here (leisure). Oh...and I will have another massage (leisure). And while the clouds are sparse this morning, the reports are they will gather later and give us another afternoon shower--so why not work if it is raining?
As I sit here on the balcony, a couple of Hobie Cats are headed out for a sail, though the wind seems a bit weak. I'd love to do that while I'm here, but the hip isn't ready yet for all that bending and crawling. Nor do I think I'm up for paddle boarding, though the surgery will get me ready to do so with more vigor over the Summer with the Kittens. The ability to do active stuff with my family once again was the primary impetus behind doing the cut, and I'd guess two more months or so of healing will get me to where I'll feel comfortable on the water again.
Meals here are interesting. Breakfast and lunch are buffets, and dinner can be had at one of five or six cuisine restaurants, including Mexican, Italian, French, and Jamaican. When one is dieting, buffets are a two-edged sword. First there is the "mass trap", or the plain ugly truth that one can eat as much as one desires, even if one avoids carbs. On the other hand, if one exercises restraint (as I did at breakfast), there are a number of great things to eat small portions of. Smoked salmon, hard boild eggs, and curry chicken made up this morning's fare. Lunch will likely be similar. The problem comes at dinner, where there are no buffet options. One must eat a la carte, and while the menus are fantastic, there is the "mass" problem of small portions of even the things I love. Nothing to bitch about, just have to be prepared.
Not one to kvetch about it, but we Americans are fast becoming a bit ostentatious with our tattoos. Mine as some of you know, is a small, tasteful mark on my left shoulder, invisible without my shirt on. That is not the case here. Forearms, necks, and in one case, skull are festooned with all manner of artistry, and sitting at one of the restaurants (where they try and enforce an island smart dress code) next to a man with a nice silk shirt and linen pants with his head tattooed is a bit of a discontinuity. But this is life.
Well, enough for now. I've got some things to tend to. Enjoy your day.
Jerk chicken is da bomb! Couple of Red Stripes, spliff or two, you'll never come home.
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