7/10/17 7:28PM
What is today? July 10th? Let's go with July 10th. Monday.
I'm at the kitchen table, before the window fan, under the ceiling fan. Whiskey is crying on the chair. I think he wants to outside. A few nights back, when out with S, Whiskey took a flying leap at a tree where, higher, birds taunted him. He seemed a bit...immobile...once attached to the tree, and lest he cause himself bodily harm, we carried him inside. He's been a bit pissed off ever since. I can't have him getting brave out in the yard. I love him.
Today I've spent no money. Actually, today reminded me some of when we lived on Seeley. What did I do all day? I read. A lot. That's when I read a slew of the classics, Dante, Homer, Milton, et al, purchased from Powell's (on Lincoln) mythology wall, in the second room, near the passage to the remainders. That store is gone. I miss it. I wonder what's in the space now. Today I read a solid sixty pages of Our Little Racket. Have I mentioned I'm trying to read more books by women? Anyway, this novel's okay, maybe a bit better than okay. I'm irked by the author's insistence on repeatedly, to the point of parody, describing food as "rich" and "heavy". She's done it with hot chocolate, ramen noodles, and, uh, other food. I'll finish the book, though. I'm already 200 pages in and I want to see what happens. So...mission accomplished, author whose name I can't remember.
I"m off medication. The only real symptom I can feel involves a bit of mood swerving. I'm not any more depressed than usual, I suppose, especially considering the circumstances. I'm waiting on a call from a district. They've dallied some; we started this process three weeks back. Tonight or tomorrow, I hope. S says I'll be okay either way. I hope so. She's fierce and strong, but I still balk at relying on her, or anyone, really. It's not in my nature. I'm trying to make it my nature. I'm angry, sometimes, at the idiot administrators who brought this down on me. I try so, so hard to be a good Christian about it. I try to learn what I can. I remember that my heroes also lived uncertain years. I'm afraid, also, that once I'm hired the fear won't go away. That would be horrible backsliding. I don't want to go back to that.
I want not to be afraid.
I want not to be afraid.
I want not to be afraid.
What is today? July 10th? Let's go with July 10th. Monday.
I'm at the kitchen table, before the window fan, under the ceiling fan. Whiskey is crying on the chair. I think he wants to outside. A few nights back, when out with S, Whiskey took a flying leap at a tree where, higher, birds taunted him. He seemed a bit...immobile...once attached to the tree, and lest he cause himself bodily harm, we carried him inside. He's been a bit pissed off ever since. I can't have him getting brave out in the yard. I love him.
Today I've spent no money. Actually, today reminded me some of when we lived on Seeley. What did I do all day? I read. A lot. That's when I read a slew of the classics, Dante, Homer, Milton, et al, purchased from Powell's (on Lincoln) mythology wall, in the second room, near the passage to the remainders. That store is gone. I miss it. I wonder what's in the space now. Today I read a solid sixty pages of Our Little Racket. Have I mentioned I'm trying to read more books by women? Anyway, this novel's okay, maybe a bit better than okay. I'm irked by the author's insistence on repeatedly, to the point of parody, describing food as "rich" and "heavy". She's done it with hot chocolate, ramen noodles, and, uh, other food. I'll finish the book, though. I'm already 200 pages in and I want to see what happens. So...mission accomplished, author whose name I can't remember.
I"m off medication. The only real symptom I can feel involves a bit of mood swerving. I'm not any more depressed than usual, I suppose, especially considering the circumstances. I'm waiting on a call from a district. They've dallied some; we started this process three weeks back. Tonight or tomorrow, I hope. S says I'll be okay either way. I hope so. She's fierce and strong, but I still balk at relying on her, or anyone, really. It's not in my nature. I'm trying to make it my nature. I'm angry, sometimes, at the idiot administrators who brought this down on me. I try so, so hard to be a good Christian about it. I try to learn what I can. I remember that my heroes also lived uncertain years. I'm afraid, also, that once I'm hired the fear won't go away. That would be horrible backsliding. I don't want to go back to that.
I want not to be afraid.
I want not to be afraid.
I want not to be afraid.
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