out of the dark that fills your mind
I don't really like rain when I can't play in it.
It'd be nice to work more than twelve-to-twenty hours a week. REALLY nice, actually.
I'd also like to figure out self-employment taxes, and if I even qualify for it.
Beirut is really not the best time-to-ruminate music ever.
Alexander is turning out to be pretty good right now, though.
Let's just face it, I have shallow taste and like music and books that don't wrench my soul too hard.
Left Neglected just proves this to me.
Uhm, random, but I really hope that I die in my sleep and not in some kind of violent crime and/or accident. Especially falling.
I was visiting someone's house a few weeks ago, and realized that everything seems smaller, now that I'm grown-up sized . . . except the ladders to the sleeping lofts. Those still seem as terrifyingly far-from-the-floor as they always did. I guess I'm irreparably terrified of heights.
I actually don't believe that anything is "irreparable."
My laptop cord (a new one, this time) freaked out. This is God's way of saying, "STAY AWAY FROM TECHNOLOGY, OKAY?!?" Will I listen? Yeahhhhhh . . .
I did a far too much raising-my-voice--okay, yelling--with the kids today.
(Shit, I hate yelling.)
Eating no sugar/chocolate makes me waaaay crankier than I anticipated.
A cat who won't sit on your lap seems like a waste of space. YEAH, I MEAN YOU THERE ON THAT PILLOW.
On the plus side . . .
Today Dad and I pulled my bike down from the garage ceiling and pumped up the tires for the summer. On Tuesday my Chinese-American librarian friend spoke with me for fifteen/twenty minutes about her home culture and journey here. The snow is almost all melted. And I haven't had a true-blue full-out acne attack in . . . a few months?
Oorah. My life doesn't suck as badly as it might seem at the first fifteen glances.
Probably I should more purposefully practice gratefulness.
It'd be nice to work more than twelve-to-twenty hours a week. REALLY nice, actually.
I'd also like to figure out self-employment taxes, and if I even qualify for it.
Beirut is really not the best time-to-ruminate music ever.
Alexander is turning out to be pretty good right now, though.
Let's just face it, I have shallow taste and like music and books that don't wrench my soul too hard.
Left Neglected just proves this to me.
Uhm, random, but I really hope that I die in my sleep and not in some kind of violent crime and/or accident. Especially falling.
I was visiting someone's house a few weeks ago, and realized that everything seems smaller, now that I'm grown-up sized . . . except the ladders to the sleeping lofts. Those still seem as terrifyingly far-from-the-floor as they always did. I guess I'm irreparably terrified of heights.
I actually don't believe that anything is "irreparable."
My laptop cord (a new one, this time) freaked out. This is God's way of saying, "STAY AWAY FROM TECHNOLOGY, OKAY?!?" Will I listen? Yeahhhhhh . . .
I did a far too much raising-my-voice--okay, yelling--with the kids today.
(Shit, I hate yelling.)
Eating no sugar/chocolate makes me waaaay crankier than I anticipated.
A cat who won't sit on your lap seems like a waste of space. YEAH, I MEAN YOU THERE ON THAT PILLOW.
On the plus side . . .
Today Dad and I pulled my bike down from the garage ceiling and pumped up the tires for the summer. On Tuesday my Chinese-American librarian friend spoke with me for fifteen/twenty minutes about her home culture and journey here. The snow is almost all melted. And I haven't had a true-blue full-out acne attack in . . . a few months?
Oorah. My life doesn't suck as badly as it might seem at the first fifteen glances.
Probably I should more purposefully practice gratefulness.