(no subject)

I compose most of my entries in drafts in my email, and then I'm never sure which parts of what drafts I've used, making the backlog entirely unusable because if it's late enough I'm having a hard time writing, I'm also going to have a hard time figuring out what I've already said.

 

I wonder when I'm going to convince myself it's time to dig deep and figure out what I want to do next.  Maybe not until Spark gets sent to daycare, maybe not until we move, maybe not until some other thing entirely that makes me want to get a paycheck from someone. I'm getting closer to thinking the things I do around the house are work, but also cringe at the idea of all I'm doing is housework.  

 

I told someone today that I wanted to be an introverted social justice warrior.  It's possible what I mean by introverted is surly.  

 

I intended to write at lunch today, but instead got to spend my time in a much more rewarding way catching up with Delight and telling them things that make sense inside my head, but they can look at me with that expression and ask me if I hear myself and the faulty logic just collapses and I have to admit I have some pretty stupid reasons for doing things.