Do You Remember an Inn, Miranda?


The thread, the drink, the scissors.  There’s a story there somehow.

What is the state of the world todaaay?

Work: Was terribly quiet.  After a flurry over the last few days, there was less to do today and while I kept myself busy, I wish I had a bit more get-up-and-go when it’s like this.  A bit more gumption.  This is the stuff that made the old job worse than it might have been because I was so burnt out that I couldn’t take advantage of light days to get organized.  I just told myself it was Friday and it was okay since the boss was out.  And it was okay.  It was what it was.  Try again on Monday.  I’m also taking off Tuesday for my freebie Birthday day off and I really should not complain about anything ever.  Jesus, I have it so nice there.

Diet:  It has been a month  I am pretty sure I have lost *some* weight.  I’m going to do a bit of cataloguing tomorrow for the next month.  Some picture taking and measurements.  I find it worrisome that I’m going to care too much about the number for a while.  Have too high expectations about what it could be and let that worm its way into me and out through me via my eating choices.  Victory of the Mildred.  Writing with pbandjax has helped a lot to recontextualize some of my reasoning and to bring me back to New Year’s Eve when doing this for a whole year – a length of time that can flatten the highest mountains and fill in the deepest valleys – seemed like the best, no, the essential idea.

You falling desperately in love with me: I have to report that I am less optimistic on that front than ever before though you continue to deserve heaps of affection from everyone (and I would be delighted, ecstatic even, to be at the front of that line), but I am amusing myself with a few other idle fancies on that front.  A few random, unbound characters dancing around where they cannot be counted on the census and I get to sharpen my tongue on them.  It is all very internetty and of no consequence whatsoever, but I needed even a grain of sand to cheer me in this regard.

A few things I’m listening to today – the poem reminded me of this book of children’s poems and Hillaire Belloc that I would read aloud to myself, and my invisible audience (strange how that carries over).  I’m remembering Matilda in particular:

Matilda told such Dreadful Lies,
It made one Gasp and Stretch one’s Eyes;
Her Aunt, who, from her Earliest Youth,
Had kept a Strict Regard for Truth,
Attempted to believe Matilda:
The effort very nearly killed her,

The world at large: I don’t care who is in the SuperBowl this year.  As a Broncos fan, they both seem like shitty choices to root for.  I’m going to go see Ben Howard in a week.  No work, no appointments, nothing doing tomorrow, though. I might actually read some more and dance about like an idiot, and otherwise find a way to spend the twelve hours without completely losing my mind.  If it’s not so bad, it should be great!

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