30 Minute Split


But actually, it’s only a little bit more than fifteen minutes allotted.  Which is basically bullshit, because any five hundred words that you spit out in fifteen minutes or less is not going to be any monumental tome of literature.  It’s just going to be bloviating and random words strung together and mostly, I fear, a great deal of whining.

Still, I have to do this.  Only until the end of the year.  Then things need to change because I am capable of it, but I am also capable of so much more that would actually improve my world and not leave me exhausted and with nothing to show.

So a hundred words a minute, a spitfire, a flame shot into the sky, a dream.

It’s not so difficult at all.

I just start by telling you about my day.  I say that I meant to go to work on time, but I am realizing more and more how the instability of now – in my life, in the world, in this life in total – is making me not give a shit about critical things.  So I spend time dicking around, dicking AND learning and absorbing information, on the internet.  Posting shit on Facebook that is not going to win me any friends at all and is largely either ignored or poured into this pot of “old white ladies being disappointed in me stew” that frankly I am never going to eat so I can post shit about being furious or wanting to go to marches on my own page.  I have made it clear in my own mind that it isn’t necessarily “fair” to intrude on someone’s opinion on their page, but it is not going to keep me from posting what I feel on mine.  Even if I am aware that some biddies are discomfited.  They are assholes and passive racists and I don’t have to accept shit because they want me to, because it would be “nice” and feel good.

So while I was deeply distracted with that and learning about the virtues of Slack and chasing the cat around, I ended up being about 10 minutes late out the door and then getting stuck behind a train.  It was dumb.  It was deeply dumb.

Work, however, kept me busy enough.  I bought a sandwich that was of no note whatsoever and I did not eat as a result, worked alongside my co-workers with nary a conversation about the election, and finally, after a lot of hunger-based stupidity drove home.

From there, it has been all Austen all the time.  We watched Austenland and then, got into the hardcore stuff with Northanger Abbey.   It was a real delight.  All the JJ Feild all the time, those lustrous, muslin-loving tones.  I am quite looking forward to the next movie night and perhaps to living in a world where I don’t have to feel so dead on my feet when I take my enjoyment.

What else.  Tomorrow comes soon enough.  We are watching.



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