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January 11, 2000
a year ago
two years ago


I had a whole list of things to do today. Got all the dishes done first thing as John had left a pile of them in the aftermath of the cookies. It was kinda nice to just clean everything up. I also put out Fezzik's bed as it didn't look like there should be high winds today, which may well have been a big mistake. Fezzik went out the front door along with his water dish, as the little birds at the bird feeder keep drinking from and pooping around his water dish when it's out on the back porch. I don't like those kinds of comtaminents, so we'll see how this goes.

I then scraped all the ice off the windows and went into work. There was a little cloud cover, wisps of clouds covering the face of the sun so I didn't regret too badly the fact that my sunglasses were at work. On the way to work, the moment I came into Boulder city limits the wind started to just howl around the car, and I could feel it buffetting against the car.

Oh oh.

When I got out of my car in the parking lot my trenchcoat was flapping like wings behind me because I hadn't buttoned it all up, just the top button. It was crazy... I had to hang onto my hat until I could get the chin strap in place and then someone else got in and held the door open for me until I could get in. At least, as someone said, there's no air pollution today. It's blowing at a fierce rate out here.

The one meeting we had was in one of the west-facing meeting rooms and the windows boomed and the wind howled around the corner of the building and we could hear it all. The panes rattled with some of the gusts and there were moments when the whole meeting just watched the window panes to see what might happen next. Nothing did, but it really didn't help our phone conference folks who had called in to hear.

I spent the last of the morning talking with folks, and got into a big old discussion that ate most of it up. For all my good intentions... ah well. Some of it simply is that folks that complain will always eat at me, especially if they only complain without ever even taking a moment to think about solutions or alternatives or the fact that they can actually do something about the situation rather than just sit and rant about how helpless they are and how much other people mess up their lives. Which reminded me and got me to realize that the reality may well be that Geoff had nothing to do with my being depressed. Given all the stuff that happened last week, it really may well simply be that I was and, perhaps, should have been tired and depressed by the end of the week. Talk about blaming someone for what really is my own baggage.

Anyway... that's my rant. I just got tired of some folks telling me how much the world sucked and told them, basically, that if it sucked than they should go kick it in the teeth to get it to stop, or at least replace what was sucking so badly. Maybe even present a plan so that they couldn't suck anymore or stick a straw in so that it would only suck where they wanted it to suck rather than all over. Blah blah blah... analogies are so weird, sometimes. And, yes, when I'm tired and frustrated I'm not all that fun to be around.

Spent the last of the afternoon desperately trying to catch up on my work things. Though that wasn't helped by being interrupted by other work things. I can't seem to get a train of thought together to save my life, so there are some reasons to have been glad of my obsession last week. Bah. Can't win for losing, though some of that sentiment comes from the rollercoaster of a stock market which can't seem to decide wheither or not it likes everything or it's time for profit taking. It's just insane, like riding a force of nature. It's all just not going to matter in a year. Right now, though, it's a huge mood swing kind of thing, mostly 'cause I know I'm not going to be able to do a damned thing about it.

Work actually fell together quite neatly, according to the plan I'd laid out for myself. I hope to get it all done tomorrow and just be finished with this phase.

I stayed late at work mostly because I had absolutely no desire to go home to an empty house. I realized I was low on blood sugar and likely depressed from lack of sleep, lack of food, and complete lack of really caring about any of that. I had also typed until my forearms were screaming and the wrists are really pretty unhappy with me. Odd how one can build ones life around a single person and feel so lost when they're so gone. I was feeling odd and mildly self-destructive on the way home and knew that that was going to be something of a problem if I let it, so I made myself aware. Aware of the tiny lighted compartment that was my environment, aware of every note and word of the music pounding over the sound system, every inch and slant and push of road under my tires. Sensuality pouring through smooth couplings and grabbing gears and the howling of the wind outside my window. The dark of night tugged at a mood as dark and complex as good espresso and I drowned sorrow in sensation.

Got home and Fezzik greeted me at the gate, even ran right up to me to get hugged and I hugged him good and solidly and he licked me *sloop* and then trotted off to the house, his duty done. I closed the gate and went in and discarded every food I idea I had until I realized what I was doing and just forced myself to pick something. Genevieve said, "Go home and pull something comforting from the freezer and have that." when she was going to sleep and heard that I was going to an empty house. So I did that.

I put pot stickers on the stove with plenty of water and pulled on biking shorts and went at the stationary bike like a mad woman and just road intervals until I couldn't think and couldn't breath anymore. That helped. Drank water when I was done until I could breath and think again, and thought about eating but let it sit until my heart settled with my stomach in tow. The pot stickers were crunchy on the bottom, savory with ginger, garlic and chicken in the centers, and chewy on the outsides and I mixed myself a sauce of sweet, sour, and soy with just a touch of fragrant sesame oil. Yum.

Afterwards I was faced with either watching TV or writing this and then taking a bath before going to bed. An immediacy that I don't get around to much anymore and while it feels good in some ways it feels... raw... in others. No time to digest emotions, nor any real rules for editing reality, and it just spills forth like beans from a bag skittering wide for anyone to see. Fezzik followed me up the stairs and lies half-asleep at my feet.

Two great good things. One was John's peanut butter cookies, which I ate during my morning meeting, they were rich and crumbly and had just enough peanut chunks to them to crunch with rich peanut taste and melt in my mouth. Hugging the big, furry, warm and enthusiastic dog solidly on greeting. That was also very sweet to come home to. I suspect he's going to sleep outside my door tonight.

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