One bite at a time

All my technology is failing at once, and I'm left with the quiet again. It's good, and it's helpful, but I can't stand it. I think I'm going to get rid of my desk and turn that corner into an actual place to read.

I broke up a half-finished puzzle today because it's too damn hard. I could make a rule and say I have to finish every puzzle I start, but I am not Amy and some of them are too damn hard. It's supposed to be fun, so fuck my rules. I'm running the dishwasher when it's half full and who says I have to keep the office furniture set together? I don't. I still feel like I should, but I don't have to. Practice tells me that it will feel better once I do it, much like the cassette tapes that I did not record onto CDs. It feels better that they're gone. My wisdom teeth are also finally gone. My dentist and his assistant told me about this woman who was crying over her wisdom teeth- wanted to hold them and spend a minute with them to say goodbye, as they had been through so much with her. I didn't feel like that at the time, and I sure as shit didn't want to hold them, but those have been waiting to come out for thirteen years, so I guess there are some feelings attached. It is weird to have something on your to do list for so long, feeling like it will always be there and suddenly it's just done and gone.

I went out looking for the ever elusive perfect to do list/planner and I can just see my therapist rolling her eyes. I YEARN to be organized, but she would remind me that it's all messy and good and I spend the time planning so that I don't have to actually do anything. This is true, and here it is, crawling towards 10pm and I'm ready to move furniture. I am going to chuck the desk and use my small, multi-purpose table that I rescued from the trash about seven years ago. When Eric, the photographer for the Reno News & Review came to take my picture for the 95 Word Fiction Contest, he asked to take a picture in my writing habitat and I couldn't allow it in that corner. It's too much of a mess, bad juju. I had him take the picture here instead.

 

They didn't use it, of course, but it's way better. I love everything in this picture. I have stolen this William Morris quote before, and I'll use it again:

 

 

If you want a golden rule that will fit everybody, this is it: Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful.

 

Or, as Rachel and I have decided, it is ideally both. F'art, or functional art. I miss the chaos of school, I miss my changing schedule, I miss the challenges and deadlines that gave me beautiful things to decorate my home with. I love my taste, I love how my style is not predetermined- if I love it, it goes. I am finding my style in clothes and jewelry and such, and I have a good start with my lovely place, but you know I am dying to rearrange. I do love change.

 

Years ago I created a list of things I wanted my child to see or learn about. I put things on that list that I thought were obligatory- things I wanted to see because they are on everybody's mandatory life list. I am going to burn that list and start over. Well, I'll recycle it, anyway.

 



First things first. Tracy, please listen to John Saw That Number and tell me what kind of dancing it would be.

If I spent that $35 on a new class each month, I think I'd be a lot happier. I have treadmills at my apartment complex, and I think I need to get over my fear that someone is going to sneak up from behind and murder me. Also, I have a Wii, for crying out loud. It's time for classes, because it's going to take years to learn my job and I have to do a ton of shit besides just library things like be pestered for everything on earth and that's fine because it makes work go by fast.

This is a tough time, I think. I haven't had a bad moment in a long time and I knew it wouldn't last. This evening, Sparky came and picked me up and drove me to the store for premade mashed potatoes and didn't say a word about it, even though I know it went against his chef sense. They are premade, and nowhere near as good as the ones he made me, but they are edible and something other than pudding and applesauce. I keep chewing on something attached back there that is either stitches, a blood clot, or stuck food, but they warned me not to go fishing back there, just to do a warm saltwater rinse every time I eat, so I just push it off my teeth and continue on. Gross, but whatever.

I have been thinking lately about buying a house and a small child. I can't do that here, I know. Wild ideas are floating around, and I think I am going to just seize on them and try to find what makes me happy. I want to be surrounded by people and love, have a small house that's mine, with lots of green things and a warm glow.

I took the dogs for a walk tonight and felt very sad, listening to one cricket calling for a mate. I almost cried, but came back here and decided to write, knowing that it would make me feel better, and it did.

Now I just have to convince myself to go to bed instead of rearranging furniture.