I have a handful of poems in my inbox, but none of them suit.
I condensed my 300+ Ireland pictures to a select 50 for facebook, from which I intend to extract a few to post.
I registered for Bloomsday, and, in passing, thought of a couple ways to communicate my impending participation.
But then last week disappeared, and this week has been bursting at the seams.
My first experience being called whilst “on call” occurred (4:30 am), and I’m pushing through to the weekend. I think I dislike that time even worse than being called at 2am or something (although were I to be called now, I would be pretty useless. No, the adrenaline would spike), because then I would probably be able to go back to bed after the call.
Ah, and it is an effort to pull together the little things. I’ve been needing to affirm my existence by not requiring anything of myself in those quiet moments at home. Which does not readily lend itself to doing the dishes (dishwasher still being out of commission) or finishing laundry. Or figuring out what I’m going to wear tomorrow and Friday.
Whoa whoa, my brain’s getting ahead of itself. It doesn’t make sense that I have to plan things out “so far” in advance and make lists and organize, but then I can’t bring myself to think about what’s coming next. I think it’s compartmentalization. Although I think as I grow more accustomed to…I don’t know…things…it will become easier to open multiple drawers at once. Oh the genius of those annoying cabinets that only allow to open one drawer at a time. Wouldn’t it be cool if I could install that in my brain? Wouldn’t it be cool if programs could be installed in your brain? Oh wait, that’s learning, isn’t it.
Cue the sheep. I would bet money I’d be out by “ten.”