Two weekends in a row, feeling quite ill with the stomach, on it and from. Which means not enough sleep. Which means no focus, no fixed star.
Am not and obviously will not be working. Nobody wants me, or needs me, or both. And I feel bad about this because I actually want to teach right now. And I am so pitiful. I keep checking my Chatt State email account, hoping for something last minute. (And I really don’t want to be taken off the email list because I just got a free subscription to The New York Times through the school, obviously much more important than any job...)
They also just changed over to Office 365 and I love it so much I want a personal copy but it is sold only for business. But I am so enamored of it that I spent Thursday and Friday working on my computer, trying to make it be what I want, look how I want, but there is no way. Thank you, Microsoft. Thank you, Goggle. (as if)
But maybe I need to concentrate on doing up the spare room as an office, which would break me from this habit of typing in my recliner in front of my TV how and when did I ever think this would ever be a good idea I told Dale to never put a TV up here because it would ruin my life.
Saturday I went to my favorite coffee shop and worked on my for-pay writing work. Then I worked, stabbed a bit, on/at the novel. The novel. Just when I think…
I have found one thing that never occurred to me before. I have changed the font to a handwriting font. Duh. It makes the book into something else entirely, a voice speaking to me, from me, outside me, inside.
The woman in the book is splitting. Other characters are appearing. And there’s a new voice, something different that has appeared that may or may not be working. But could work, with time.
I wish I could make some money…I feel bad about this, the not working. And the market is not helping. And the deaths….all over the place. And it’s about taxes. And close how close the wolf and this is all very silly, very. But still….I spent all this time and money getting an education and I am no longer using it. Piss it.
Also, add to the slow burner--
Dale had me watch a presentation by this insufferable scholar who claims evidence that Jesus never really existed as a human man who walked the Earth. Why this has tied me in such a knot is unclear based on current information. Except that I’ve spent over twenty years away from the church and I really don’t have another twenty years to stay away again. And I don’t want to be away. At all. But, again, the extraordinary intellectual girl is raising her hand in the great schoolroom of the sky and asking more questions. More and more.
I slept so long last night, about ten hours. I think I’ve diseased myself with cannot-wake-up bear-in-a-cave sickness. But I needed sleep, just maybe not so much. I went to bed at 6:30 and didn’t think I should get up at 2:30 when I awakened. So I stayed in bed each time I woke up until 5:30. Oh. That’s actually eleven hours.
I have reading to do for EFM tonight. The house is a wreck but I probably can’t do much about it because bending over makes me sick right now and there is generally at least some bending over involved with cleaning the house. And moving around is also quite suspect.
I will at the very least get to the grocery store for a few things. We seem to constantly need “a few things.” Does everyone always need “a few things?”
I also want to get to the dry cleaners. And would love to take off clothes to Good Will.
Will I do any of these things?
Here’s looking at you, Monday. Here’s mud in your eye.