Reward Myself

Today's the day we head to Assateague Island National Seashore.  It's also the final day of my half-year, which included a goal of three trips to Maryland Attractions.   I've admired the art at the Walters Art Museum after shabbos morning at Beth Tfiloh and strolled the boutiques of Chesapeake City.  I almost included a short time at the National Harbor during a trip to DC, but we really only had supper there, with more dedicated site seeing pre-empted by the closeness to dusk and the difficulty of parking.  So we just ate our supper, not itself an easy or entirely pleasurable outing, and moved back to our hotel.  I did not credit myself for a Maryland tourism visit.  Ocean City became the next destination, postponed at least once, but about to be fulfilled.  Always gratifying to complete these initiatives outlined six months in advance.

The trip, and some of the pleasures that go with petty travel, also qualifies as a reward.  I submitted an entry to the NEJM Fiction Contest.  Not a level of writing that has a chance of publication there, but a challenge to myself to see if I can move from journalism or op-ed writing, or from describing elements of my life, to fiction with universal themes.  I could, though with a lot of abandonments and restarts.  That gets a reward.  So does persevering on my exercise program, though at a reduced intensity, despite some right leg problems.  As my BP rose, I increased amlodipine.  BP down last evening and no apparent side effects.   My doctor helped with the decision of what to do, but I selected from the reasonable options.

Our curtains got hung.  Our living room approaches full entertainment capacity.  I'm off my SSRI reasonably successfully.  In the last six months I've read more than my quota of books, submitted articles for publication, have some semblance of herb and vegetable gardens.  Been a good six-month cycle.  Worthy of a reward.