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greenstormThere are a thousand things I could be doing right now. I have twenty-three baby rats to squeek at (Mona's runt didn't make it past twelve hours old, but that's not unexpected); I'm making a roast chicken and some salad for Eva, who dressed me for Sin City and is totally busy this week; I have a garden to water and dishes to do and rat cages to clean; I have people who are neat and people who I love to hang out with, some of whom wanted me to go see Hulk with them; I have dried herbs to process and laundry to sort and a bed to change the sheets on. I have two bosses to call (okay, just called one of them, so I'm not procrastinating that badly). I have tidying to do.
Instead I am sitting here on an astoundingly small computer in my livingroom courtesy of my lovely roommate and thinking about blogging. The month and a half I've been away has dwindled my email considerably. I have not-too-much interest in reading my lj communities. Facebook requires a marathon session of clicking 'no, I don't want to be a zombie pirate'. And... this blog is in many ways my home, and my friend. It's an ear that is always open. I think that's why I tend to stray away from it when I'm in intense daily relationships; I don't need that ear right then. Right now Angus is still serving that open-ear function for me. Still, there is a lot to be said for surety, and here I find my surety.
Today was an awful day, and I would be impressed with myself for having made it through if I'd done so more gracefully. As is, I only got through work by keeping my mouth tightly closed so I wouldn't say anything totally unacceptably rude to people and by absolutely refusing to walk away and go home. Work itself was no fun-- we were working at a place that was made entirely in Italy out of sandstone and shipped here piece by piece, and sandstone stains, so we couldn't get a speck of dirt anywhere-- and we were planting bushes. It rained a bit. I still have a sunburn in the middle of my back from where I couldn't reach with sunscreen yesterday. I was worried about Mona-- she'd had her babies between one and four am thismorning, and I would have liked to be home until they all had milk in their bellies, but instead I had to wait till I got home to make sure they and she were all okay. I was worried about Angus, or rather, my paranoia that kicks in when I'm stressed found something to eat at me there. And I've discovered what looks like rampant sexism in the payscale at work, though I'm gonna talk to my boss about it asap and see what's up with it.
So having poured all that out into this (definitely less satisfying than human but very reliable) ear, do I feel better? In the last six weeks I've been thinking a lot about this blog, and about blogging. I've been considering why I do it, and whether I should continue. I find that often I haven't got much to say, or the things I want to say may be rather more private or gossip-inspiring than I want to write about here.
In that six weeks I've spent a lot more time in genuine, satisfying interaction with people. I've spent some more time lonely. I've had flashes of self-awareness; epiphanies, I guess. I've had a lot more time to think, and more time to just exist. I've had some cool pictures of me taken, and also of loved ones (or twos) and Personages of Note. I've slept a bunch. I've spent an afternoon on the beach, a couple of evenings dancing, and some nights in strange beds. I've washed an unholy number of dishes, and cooked just slightly less than an unholy amount. I've listened to the same CDs over and over. I've felt much more productive than I am when I have access to the computer-- I'd be washing dishes and cleaning rat cages right now if this weren't here on my table.
I've been a lot happier, on the whole. I think myself into fewer ruts. I have no outlet for being transcendently happy, so I tend to miss out on sharing that experience at all.
So where have I ended up? I'm firming up my boundaries quite a bit. I'm saying no to things and-- Gods forbid --to people not just in the details but sometimes now altogether. I'm learning when enough is enough-- or at least when way too much is enough. That's nice. It creates a nice sense of security to think I'll walk out of something if it's a problem.
I'm still turning this full-time-work business over in my head. I mean, maybe, but maybe not. The money sure is nice.
Oh well. Enough of this. It's a post, and there will be more again, who knows how frequent?
Instead I am sitting here on an astoundingly small computer in my livingroom courtesy of my lovely roommate and thinking about blogging. The month and a half I've been away has dwindled my email considerably. I have not-too-much interest in reading my lj communities. Facebook requires a marathon session of clicking 'no, I don't want to be a zombie pirate'. And... this blog is in many ways my home, and my friend. It's an ear that is always open. I think that's why I tend to stray away from it when I'm in intense daily relationships; I don't need that ear right then. Right now Angus is still serving that open-ear function for me. Still, there is a lot to be said for surety, and here I find my surety.
Today was an awful day, and I would be impressed with myself for having made it through if I'd done so more gracefully. As is, I only got through work by keeping my mouth tightly closed so I wouldn't say anything totally unacceptably rude to people and by absolutely refusing to walk away and go home. Work itself was no fun-- we were working at a place that was made entirely in Italy out of sandstone and shipped here piece by piece, and sandstone stains, so we couldn't get a speck of dirt anywhere-- and we were planting bushes. It rained a bit. I still have a sunburn in the middle of my back from where I couldn't reach with sunscreen yesterday. I was worried about Mona-- she'd had her babies between one and four am thismorning, and I would have liked to be home until they all had milk in their bellies, but instead I had to wait till I got home to make sure they and she were all okay. I was worried about Angus, or rather, my paranoia that kicks in when I'm stressed found something to eat at me there. And I've discovered what looks like rampant sexism in the payscale at work, though I'm gonna talk to my boss about it asap and see what's up with it.
So having poured all that out into this (definitely less satisfying than human but very reliable) ear, do I feel better? In the last six weeks I've been thinking a lot about this blog, and about blogging. I've been considering why I do it, and whether I should continue. I find that often I haven't got much to say, or the things I want to say may be rather more private or gossip-inspiring than I want to write about here.
In that six weeks I've spent a lot more time in genuine, satisfying interaction with people. I've spent some more time lonely. I've had flashes of self-awareness; epiphanies, I guess. I've had a lot more time to think, and more time to just exist. I've had some cool pictures of me taken, and also of loved ones (or twos) and Personages of Note. I've slept a bunch. I've spent an afternoon on the beach, a couple of evenings dancing, and some nights in strange beds. I've washed an unholy number of dishes, and cooked just slightly less than an unholy amount. I've listened to the same CDs over and over. I've felt much more productive than I am when I have access to the computer-- I'd be washing dishes and cleaning rat cages right now if this weren't here on my table.
I've been a lot happier, on the whole. I think myself into fewer ruts. I have no outlet for being transcendently happy, so I tend to miss out on sharing that experience at all.
So where have I ended up? I'm firming up my boundaries quite a bit. I'm saying no to things and-- Gods forbid --to people not just in the details but sometimes now altogether. I'm learning when enough is enough-- or at least when way too much is enough. That's nice. It creates a nice sense of security to think I'll walk out of something if it's a problem.
I'm still turning this full-time-work business over in my head. I mean, maybe, but maybe not. The money sure is nice.
Oh well. Enough of this. It's a post, and there will be more again, who knows how frequent?
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no subject
Date: 2008-06-18 05:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-18 06:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-18 06:46 am (UTC)By the way (toute à propos), do you read DAR? I think it might appeal to you. If you've never seen it, this post contains a few highlights (though they're not all like that—the comic seems very personal, and the tone and subject matter vary pretty widely).
no subject
Date: 2008-06-19 10:18 am (UTC)