shower

I loved writing 'sister' in the card and I loved the pink faced surprise when she entered the room.

It's a good day for being a part of all of this expanding.

the beat

I was up til the wee hours last night at a bar where S's band was giving a show. I can still feel the smoke on my skin. I am still blushing a little. Every time I go along to one of these gigs I feel pride bubble up in me, creeping up my throat. It's acid, visceral, how proud I can be of that man. Proud of his funk, his charisma, that incredibly confident talent. Several times last night I was in conversation with someone by the side of the bar and I froze, the way I always do, because S started a solo. The questions I was being asked fell on ears deaf to anything but that saxophone. Redo, ask me again once he's stopped. I am so proud of the fact that he's not going to.

conspicuously lucky

So grateful for medial posting and for strappy gold sandals (here I come) but mostly grateful for the fact of a friend/neighbor/massage therapist/shoe consultant/personal trainer. This exists. I really am conspicuously lucky.

the opposite

I am holding opposites in my head. I believe you/I don't. We'll make it/we won't. It's worth the struggle/of COURSE not.

(Of COURSE not.)

I hope I have a new pair of shoes by the end of today: I need some control. I need a sugar detox. And enough wits to get back home in one piece.

feeling bright

Woke up feeling bright this morning. It helps to be kissed goodnight and the covers tucked around my shoulders. It helps to have a neat little red laptop named Trevon in the mornings and Cheerios, and it helps to be picked up on the way to the gym and to spend an hour looking down at myself, wondering.
I have all these things-- a bottle of bubbles, plans for Thai food for lunch, good books, good coffee, tree-dreams, a full set of keys, new music piping though my earbuds.
I'm pretty proud of myself for being on my feet today. Not that it was almost a case of me not standing on my feet, but that I've, well, got some vigor in me today. Here, needed.

so far

Today is a great day for cleaning the kitchen in my underwear.

red

I am in a temporary half-cubicle, with no Sheriff Finchley for company (he's in storage). Just cube-y walls and bookshelves stacked with paper that isn't mine. Sigh. Everyone working in this area of the library is library-quiet, even on a Friday. I will put some NPR in my headphones once I find them.

I woke up at 3:00am last night and painted my nails bright red to match the lid of the laptop ebay sent me. I couldn't sleep. I didn't waste any time after turning on the computer for the first time and the inaugural facebook check before naming the new computer Trevon. No need to bandy about.

So I didn't sleep much last night. I have so many things whirling about. Anonymous notes in the mail. Where to put my coffee cup. An inability to tolerate suspense. What to DO about [left blank for reasons of me being chickenshit]. Also have the third movement of the Grieg Piano Concerto bubbling through my head. The romantic part. The part we skipped over in the rehearsal last night. 

But it's Friday! And this new fake office is an adventure! And I'm always just glad for the days I plan to end beside S.

taking it

Bring it, Thursday. BRING IT.

(early morning caramel chocolates)

archeology

Today I am an office archeologist. We're moving. Out, and then in. It's not an exciting reason: asbestos. Well, asbestos and new carpet. We were angling for our bare walls to be painted, perhaps the calming pale purple of the first floor, or the warm tan of the stairwells. But we were denied--it's just our floor, our asbestos-y floor, that warrants attention.

So, we're moving. We will be like stray dogs for a week and some change, our bare-bones selves begging for scraps of desk space somewhere in the technical services cubicle farm until we are allowed back home.

I always sort of relish this kind of chaos. It will be a pain in the balls. But it will not be tedious.

Today and tomorrow we are razing this place. Drawers that hadn't been cleaned in decades, boxes of paperwork from the 80s. I am feeling like an explorer, neck deep in paperclips and dried out rubberbands. I am recycling old papers with vigor. And feeling a stab of regret that I am the last person who will stumble upon these old billing forms from 1995 and think 'oh, so THAT'S how it used to be done!' I'm getting rid of our evidence.

We have an old screwdriver-in-a-screwdriver-in-a-screwdriver-in-a-hammer in the bottom drawer of one cabinet. I've used it more times than you'd think, to tighten pencil sharpeners and unbend cart wheels and once to fix a loosening pair of glasses. I wrapped it in a dust cloth and tucked it away in a box. I hope this all gets back to us.

Today I tossed out the tiny stubs of 17 pencils, and I feel like I will still find more.

fragments

I can be so frustrating in my inability to allow you to verify the steadfastness of your

This morning is already not what I expected

I am an unfortunate blend of poor impulse control and

But in other news, hey! I am beginning to believe that I

I am feeling accomplished, in the way gold

There I go breaking the world

I'm a little disappointed when I wiggle my toes and nothing attacks

My newest goal: make myself easier

Today's word is 'yawp'

It has been one of those DAYS! So full of sunlight and catchphrases

I want to say, sensitively, that I have been coming so close to losing my shit

I think this breeze is beautiful, and the straightened rug