Sticking

Which is something these journal entries haven't been doing. It's possible I'm having trouble with the Big Blue Button, but more likely it's that my Big Blue Toilet Seat of a computer (original iBook, you see?) is not playing well with others. Each time I try to enter my current music, everything eats itself. Deleverance, walking through the cemetery with my boyfriend gone. Early morning thoughts on why John Kerry may have been a confused and angry young man when he came back from Vietnam, but at least he showed up, and since when isn't a politician capable of personal and emotional growth, he's still infinitely better than He Whose Initial Must Not Be Mentioned--gone. Coffee bitter and frothed with milk in Robin's backyard, sun burning my legs already--gone. Rootless rambling, also gone.

It got really annoying after a while. So I stopped thinking of important things to say. Then I went from having one job to having four (three plus Robin's) and that was the end of everything including enough sleep to remain coherent, personable, and functional at work for a week at a time. Even three vacation days didn't do much good, since I had to write a syllabus. Not my intent, not exactly relaxing either. Still, the work was done and I'm glad for it. This is obviously going to take a certain amount of discomfort and monumental effort. But I felt, even in front of the class on my first night, that it will certainly be worth it.