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I did the thing.

(access list, see last post; everyone else, it was a hard thing for reasons, but I did it, and I get to be proud of myself for a little while, and the worst they can say is no which for other reasons actually seems kind of unlikely, and maybe something good will come of it.)

And now it is one am, because I was reading Internet archives—many productive, much sensible, wow—and still my homework is mostly undone and my food is not at all cooked and grump grump yawn. At least I got the ground beef into the freezer, so it will not go bad should I fail to cook the ziti stuff tomorrow morning?

I absolutely do want to go to the UUCD service Sunday at ten. Don't let me forget. (Per the newsletter: What is it we long for in our lives? What is it we think will solve our problems, take away our cares and bring us happiness? There are, of course, some basic things we need: like food & shelter. But what additional things do we long for deep down in our hearts? What things bring us value, meaning, comfort, purpose, joy, affection, direction, fulfillment? Each of us is on our own individual journey, but perhaps we can find out more about what we're looking for by sharing and exploring together our own experiences.)

The sound of the rain is soothing.

Okay. I am going to unpack one box of books. And then I am going to figure out something to say in response to the one other person so far who has posted to the discussion board for the writing class. And then I am going to reread at least one of the eight little readings for the women's studies class and answer the related reading question, so that at least part of that assignment gets done tonight. And then I really am going to bed.

(no subject)

it is eight am

I went (back) to bed at three-thirty

THIS IS WHY I CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS

but the patio doors are open on to the lake, and the sounds of quacking ducks and chirping bugs are soothing, and it is a lovely morning, however gray and damp

and that is a nice thing

(no subject)

Some lessons from the "homeless billionaire".

...if money and things aren't at all important, at least to him, why is he still a billionaire? He could give half his wealth away, still have no difficulty funding his "living in upscale hotels, owning practically nothing, and outsourcing all his household chores to hotel staffs [and all his food needs to restaurant staffs, as I assume he does if he owns that little]" lifestyle, and transform a whole bunch of homeless dollarnaires into housed members of society.

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One way of understanding [the difference between chaos and cosmos] is to think about moving into a new house or apartment. When you arrive, the whole place is cluttered up with boxes and piles of things. You have no idea who your neighbors are, and may still need to discover where to do your shopping or catch the bus. Your phone and Internet service may not yet be connected, and you find that you are living in the center of a chaotic upheaval. Only by making this place your own can you really be comfortable there. —Kirk S. Thomas, Sacred Gifts: Reciprocity and the Gods

Oh.

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fuck it. sleep time.

bed time, anyway. I predict I do not sleep.