I am fighting a cold.
But more than that,
I am fighting apathy.
Fighting to have some measure of control over my days and my use of this machine and…
That all sounds very dramatic.
I don’t mean it to.
I am warm inside, even though I have a rare-for-me headache.
I am just trying to figure out why my life seems so much more chaotic lately than it seems to have once been.
I’m pretty sure there was a time when I could breathe.
I’m pretty sure there was a time when…I had time to compose thoughts.
Maybe the problem is that I have more thoughts than time, now.
Or fewer thoughts than I used to…?
Nah, I’m going with the time thing.
I’m not sure where these mystery pockets of time came from to begin with,
Let alone where in the bloody hell they’ve gone.
But I do wish that I would choose myself over my husband sometimes.
That I would come down to cozy little office,
(which is fast becoming beautiful)
and write and read and dream.
It’s like I’ve lost touch with this machine…
And therefore lost touch with myself.
I was thinking today of how he used to be so present in my days,
How thoughts of him and anticipation for his words would whisper through me,
Screech through me, wander through me.
It was as if he was always here, even though he never was.
But that was a long time ago.
And it’s comforting to know that he is still out there,
And even more comforting to know that he is still out there,
While I am…me.
Take this as no statement whatsoever on my current life,
But that love was the greatest lesson I’ve known.
It was the most I’ve ever known of anything,
And the sharpest I’ve ever felt anything.
I should write a book about it some day, I suppose.
That way I can change the ending.
I need to go on a CD buying spree.
I seriously feel wronged by the universe,
Having missed out on some of the most intense, amazing music during the years when I should have
felt it running through my veins and been changed by it.
I don’t think a tantrum is in order, but possibly a sternly worded letter.
To whom, I haven’t the foggiest notion.
Madame Fate, perhaps.
Bitch keeps moving, no forwarding address.
I’ll keep it handy, in case I should ever run into the power tripping twunt.
Anyway, I believe my point is:
I have discovered some great music since this class started,
And am disappointed that I have missed out on so many years of listening to said music.
So, I finally have a purdy desk and matching book case,
As I alluded to above.
I feel so…
I have hanging file sized drawers, so I can organize my shit.
And my book case is so big, I sorta feel like I need to start buying books by the dozen.
(And no, they’re not cheaper that way.)
I need to get my walls decorated.
I need to get the inside of my god damn head decorated.
I really do not know what’s wrong with me lately.
I don’t feel very bloggy.
But at least that fucking Aleve finally kicked in.
Jesus Christ, headaches are stupid.
My kids have me addicted to this game…
Today I even found myself playing it when they were not around.
Maybe tomorrow will find me with some time alone with my new office.
Or maybe I should just give up on time alone.
Until the kids are old enough to want me to leave them alone…
Ok, now that thought just about breaks my heart.
They’re still my little smoochie bears right now…
Yes, I really call them that.
It’s only because of that need I have to say certain sounds, though.
“smoochie” really fills my mouth well.
(no sex jokes, please).
They let me hold them, and snuggle…I can’t believe that’s going to end some day.
They’re going to be teenagers…then full adults…oh, Christ, now I’m going to cry.
Life is fucking stupid.
I hate it.
Ok, who invited the PMS fairy?
She’s supposed to be out of town right now, according to my records.
I guess that’s just life—
and it IS fucking stupid, as we’ve just established.
I think I’m going to go get some writing done, before my mood actually turns sour.