August 13, 1997

Mountains of laundry got done last night while I wanted for the headhunter to call me back. Only problem was that he never called. Which, I think, can actually be blamed on the really awful mail server we happen to have at work. Turned out that he'd sent a mail message Monday morning asking if he could call Monday night, which I didn't get until Tuesday morning, and I sent him back a reply saying that I really wanted him to call me that night, but I doubt that it got back to him until this morning. So I used my netcom account to write another letter and tell him my schedule for the week. I may just call him tomorrow at lunch time and just punt with the suspence aspect of all this.

Things are happening at work that makes the delay not a bad thing. I need to figure out what's going on, all in all, and since Data I/O is a publically traded company I can't really post anything about what's happening. It'll be good, I think, all around.


Had another set of dreams last night... was someone that could see people's souls, the color of their souls. Each person had a shade that was the color of their lives, hot, hateful, fun, playful, loving, deceitful, or whatever, I could see. Most folks were the thiness of paper, a mere outline of their bodies, in the colors of their feelings and emotions of the moment. Others had more depth, more vividness if they lived hot and hard lives. But there was one woman whose soul was the color of the universe, so big and deep and dark and brilliant, like the night sky from just outside the atmosphere... she was a wonder to look at. Gorgeous.

I forget, but I had a sense of working with people, souls that were that old, older than their bodies, more experienced than their minds. Just working with them, doing something that needed to be done, and being somewhat in awe of them, but also realizing that they needed me for a reason and that what I was doing was something they couldn't and needed done for them. In one instance, I was involved with freeing someone like them from a really nasty situation where he didn't even really know what or who he was, but I could see...

There was one dream sequence where I was just sitting on a curb with him, talking with him. Listening mostly, mesmerized by the sound and the cadence of his voice, countering more in melody than with reason.

That was neat.


One of the things Ceej talked about in her August 11 just kinda caught at me. My regular life is not, by any means, what I'd think of as slow. But then I'm also the girl that used to just live life in such a way that all the sleep I caught for three years was in three hour catnaps anytime I could find the time. I'm older now. And I like things just a bit slower. Seven hours of sleep a night is good, though six is more common. Until I catch up with a weekend binge on sleep, or go down to San Jose, stay three days and sleep one of them. Just makes me wonder how well I'll fit into that schedule she was doing.

But my life has always had an edge of insanity to it, until the carpal tunnel hit. Then I had to slow down. Or, as Kathy put it so eloquently, I would lose the ability to wipe my butt.

I seem to, finally be catching an edge of balance. Of giving as much as I take, rather than giving everything and hoping that I'd get something back, maybe. I got to sit down and really talk with John last night and one of the things that made me pause and think was that he said that, for him, I epitomized 'balance', and that when things were out of balance, I get really grumpy.

So... would either the Borg or Clarion make me grumpy? We'll have to see.

© 1997 by Liralen Li

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