(no subject)

I'd like to post more. I'm not 100% why I've decided that, but as desires go, it seems a fairly satisfiable one. It was been a slow day, I didn't end up going in to NARAL, so I mopped and avoided doing dishes until about 4:30. Dinner was a surprisingly bland minestrone, surprising mostly because it included half a cup of grated ginger and a quarter cup of red miso paste.

There was a successful trip to the hardware store (Light got screws and washers and things and I got a sponge rest), and a side trip to Porter Square Books, where I picked up two more Buchholz postcards.

I feel like I'd mind anxiety less if I had enough momentum to work through it. Since nothing's desperate or urgent, I get boggled down in the middle, and necessity doesn't force me to slog my way through the rest. Sometimes (all the time), I feel like this undangerous life means all my coping mechanisms are for crap, and I don't want to be a danger to myself any more, at least 75% of the time, I find being healthy a refreshing change of pace.

I want to go get another undergraduate degree, a BS in something, or maybe go learn a skill, like transcription or stenography or...a thing to narrow my options, a thing at which I can be good. But to narrow my options, I have to choose and plan, and 32 years in, and I still haven't really mastered acting, only reacting. But I'll keep telling myself it's okay if my Lost Year lasts longer than a year and keep muddling through.

I got a lot of silly books from library, and I can't tell if I think an Emma Donoghue recommendation adds or detracts to a book's allure (I got The Glimmer Palace anyway). I also realized I haven't posted a book list for July or August and somehow feel like if I missed a month, I should just surrender the project, as I did when I realized I'd accumulated 30 recipes to post about.

18 days to Bar Harbor.

(no subject)

I'd like to post more. I'm not 100% why I've decided that, but as desires go, it seems a fairly satisfiable one. It was been a slow day, I didn't end up going in to NARAL, so I mopped and avoided doing dishes until about 4:30. Dinner was a surprisingly bland minestrone, surprising mostly because it included half a cup of grated ginger and a quarter cup of red miso paste.

There was a successful trip to the hardware store (Light got screws and washers and things and I got a sponge rest), and a side trip to Porter Square Books, where I picked up two more Buchholz postcards.

I feel like I'd mind anxiety less if I had enough momentum to work through it. Since nothing's desperate or urgent, I get boggled down in the middle, and necessity doesn't force me to slog my way through the rest. Sometimes (all the time), I feel like this undangerous life means all my coping mechanisms are for crap, and I don't want to be a danger to myself any more, at least 75% of the time, I find being healthy a refreshing change of pace.

I want to go get another undergraduate degree, a BS in something, or maybe go learn a skill, like transcription or stenography or...a thing to narrow my options, a thing at which I can be good. But to narrow my options, I have to choose and plan, and 32 years in, and I still haven't really mastered acting, only reacting. But I'll keep telling myself it's okay if my Lost Year lasts longer than a year and keep muddling through.

I got a lot of silly books from library, and I can't tell if I think an Emma Donoghue recommendation adds or detracts to a book's allure (I got The Glimmer Palace anyway). I also realized I haven't posted a book list for July or August and somehow feel like if I missed a month, I should just surrender the project, as I did when I realized I'd accumulated 30 recipes to post about.

18 days to Bar Harbor.