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Nov. 29th, 2005
These words won't come right now.
I want to speak in evocative generalities. I want to conjure up my feelings in your mind without lifting the veil of privacy from what happened last night.
There was snow, and walking therein.
There were big soft white things falling in a flurry around every light, and touching cheeks softly, and glittering in hair and eyelashes.
There were footprints; he carried me a little ways, and it was silly and I laughed the whole time because I was happy. Looking back, well, everyone knows the sand-and-footprints fridge magnet, right?
I only did part of the walk and I feel the poorer for it, although considerably better-slept.
His hand was warm.
Remember, Greenie: we can't see the future for a reason. It's because we're supposed to live here, where we are now, instead of in the things that may or may not happen. Remember.
I want to speak in evocative generalities. I want to conjure up my feelings in your mind without lifting the veil of privacy from what happened last night.
There was snow, and walking therein.
There were big soft white things falling in a flurry around every light, and touching cheeks softly, and glittering in hair and eyelashes.
There were footprints; he carried me a little ways, and it was silly and I laughed the whole time because I was happy. Looking back, well, everyone knows the sand-and-footprints fridge magnet, right?
I only did part of the walk and I feel the poorer for it, although considerably better-slept.
His hand was warm.
Remember, Greenie: we can't see the future for a reason. It's because we're supposed to live here, where we are now, instead of in the things that may or may not happen. Remember.
Context Is Everything
Nov. 29th, 2005 09:08 amAs I whisk by my house on the way to work, I go to post on livejournal. I forget to login. Livejournal asks me to prove that I am a human by typing some letters in. I always have trouble seeing those letters, by the way.
It's very odd; I'm still sleeping six hours a night and eating ridiculously little. I don't feel as if I'm heading to burnout this way, but perhaps I am anyhow? The thought of vacations far away is a soft quiet pull, not demanding, a little like the brush of the snowflakes outside. That's how I test for burnout; I feel for the pull of somewhere else.
The snow leaves me emotionally navel-gazing, feeling into myself, a sort of quiet blanket-wrapping so different from critical thought. The feeling is like polar fleece-- surprisingly warm for the lightness.
I keep testing for my old fears-- how badly will it hurt if I don't see him for a week? Do I worry, if I don't hear from him, that he will run away? Do I worry about time constantly? I seem to be doing well right now, though. I seem to be staying in now. Things seem to be good.
This seeming probably means they are.
It's very odd; I'm still sleeping six hours a night and eating ridiculously little. I don't feel as if I'm heading to burnout this way, but perhaps I am anyhow? The thought of vacations far away is a soft quiet pull, not demanding, a little like the brush of the snowflakes outside. That's how I test for burnout; I feel for the pull of somewhere else.
The snow leaves me emotionally navel-gazing, feeling into myself, a sort of quiet blanket-wrapping so different from critical thought. The feeling is like polar fleece-- surprisingly warm for the lightness.
I keep testing for my old fears-- how badly will it hurt if I don't see him for a week? Do I worry, if I don't hear from him, that he will run away? Do I worry about time constantly? I seem to be doing well right now, though. I seem to be staying in now. Things seem to be good.
This seeming probably means they are.
Oh, Duh - Blood Day.
Nov. 29th, 2005 03:59 pmThe play piercing last night must have kicked off my period, thus the ridiculous high I've been on.
Example: I go to A&W to get onion rings. The girl says, 'would you like a drink with that?' I say, 'do you have root beer?' She couldn't stop laughing.
My belly's been pulsing since this morning. It's a lot of sheer muscular work. Wah. Tired.
Example: I go to A&W to get onion rings. The girl says, 'would you like a drink with that?' I say, 'do you have root beer?' She couldn't stop laughing.
My belly's been pulsing since this morning. It's a lot of sheer muscular work. Wah. Tired.
My baby Helen's eyelid is swollen, and she's got some red around it. Rats naturally get red around their eyes a bit when they're stressed, but this is a little extreme. I'm worried.
I'll keep an eye on it tonight and tomorrow, may be doing an emergency vet run Friday. Here's my fingers crossed.
My poor babies. I'm finally home tonight overnight, for the first time in a week. This means I get rat-snuggles in the morning. I'm home tomorrow evening too, and Thursday, because I'm doing the early wake-up thing. This should be good. I may even get laundry done. Maybe even *gasp* more clothes sorted to give away.
The new rat cage is working spectacularly well. It's quieter, makes more efficient use of space, and is generally nicer.
I'm having intense 'P'MS. Did some work on the sexy kayak wood, but not for long- there's enough dizzy, disorientation, and just plain wanting to smack anyone who talks to me that it was a bit trying. Ahwell. Had some nice chatter with people over dinner before it set in too badly. Managed not to mortally offend Juggler. It's good.
I feel the urge to sew my boy a pretty forest green crinoline to dance in. That means that this weekend I'll need to hit up Dressew for fabric as well as Coolidge Bamboo for cane rattan and the stage place downtown for makeup. I *think* that's all the money I need to worry about spending this weekend.
My tentative plans for Sunday are exciting. They involve saran wrap.
Real winter really seems to be all about dirty snow.
Now that I'm degenerating into one-liners, I'm gonna go change the babies' cage, turn on the heating pad in my bed, and stop writing. I could even practice my lines for the play...
I'll keep an eye on it tonight and tomorrow, may be doing an emergency vet run Friday. Here's my fingers crossed.
My poor babies. I'm finally home tonight overnight, for the first time in a week. This means I get rat-snuggles in the morning. I'm home tomorrow evening too, and Thursday, because I'm doing the early wake-up thing. This should be good. I may even get laundry done. Maybe even *gasp* more clothes sorted to give away.
The new rat cage is working spectacularly well. It's quieter, makes more efficient use of space, and is generally nicer.
I'm having intense 'P'MS. Did some work on the sexy kayak wood, but not for long- there's enough dizzy, disorientation, and just plain wanting to smack anyone who talks to me that it was a bit trying. Ahwell. Had some nice chatter with people over dinner before it set in too badly. Managed not to mortally offend Juggler. It's good.
I feel the urge to sew my boy a pretty forest green crinoline to dance in. That means that this weekend I'll need to hit up Dressew for fabric as well as Coolidge Bamboo for cane rattan and the stage place downtown for makeup. I *think* that's all the money I need to worry about spending this weekend.
My tentative plans for Sunday are exciting. They involve saran wrap.
Real winter really seems to be all about dirty snow.
Now that I'm degenerating into one-liners, I'm gonna go change the babies' cage, turn on the heating pad in my bed, and stop writing. I could even practice my lines for the play...