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Gulch of Shadow
Nov. 7th, 2019 09:20 pmI slept kinda late today, meaning I got 8 hours, yay! So it was already light when I woke up. Before I even opened my eyes, I could tell by the quality of the light that it had snowed some more. And so it was, when I looked outside. I know many people like to keep the shades and curtains drawn for sleeping, but I hate the feeling of being closed in. I like to know when the light is coming. Fortunately, our bedroom is on the second floor, and the house next door is a single story, with a row of small pine trees in between, so I don't have to worry about people looking in my window. The next thing I heard was the sound of the next-door neighbor scraping the snow off his windshield. Aaaack. A harsh sound that has not been heard for seven months, but will become all too familiar all too soon. The Sparrowhawk scraped the ice off our own windshield and kindly dropped me off at the hospital to get my blood drawn pending a post-Philcon doctor's appointment. The phlebotomists are such pros. They manage to get into my squinty little veins, and it doesn't even hurt. I always give them lots of appreciation.
I wrote up and posted five cards to various people for various occasions. I did a pre-trip bathroom cleaning--if I die en route, at least my bathroom will be tidy, and if not, it will be nice for me when I return, and yes, I do engage in this kind of absurd catastrophic thinking. Constantly. I wish I were one of those people who just assumes that everything will be fine. La la la. I'm expending great effort in trying to rewire my alarmist brain, but what can I say--it's a work in progress. I packed for the weekend. I'm trying to pack really light and put everything in my big backpack. I'm trying to talk myself into leaving the laptop at home. It's a weekend! I have an iPhone! I can do without it! I spent some more time thinking about panels. I'm having a recurrence of anxiety about this trip. I have a strong wish to pull the covers over my head tomorrow and let the plane fly away without me. But I won't, because I want to see the friends who will be there. I reserve the right to retire to my hotel room and pull the covers over my head at any time, however. If I don't take the laptop, I may fall silent here until Sunday night. We'll see.
I wrote up and posted five cards to various people for various occasions. I did a pre-trip bathroom cleaning--if I die en route, at least my bathroom will be tidy, and if not, it will be nice for me when I return, and yes, I do engage in this kind of absurd catastrophic thinking. Constantly. I wish I were one of those people who just assumes that everything will be fine. La la la. I'm expending great effort in trying to rewire my alarmist brain, but what can I say--it's a work in progress. I packed for the weekend. I'm trying to pack really light and put everything in my big backpack. I'm trying to talk myself into leaving the laptop at home. It's a weekend! I have an iPhone! I can do without it! I spent some more time thinking about panels. I'm having a recurrence of anxiety about this trip. I have a strong wish to pull the covers over my head tomorrow and let the plane fly away without me. But I won't, because I want to see the friends who will be there. I reserve the right to retire to my hotel room and pull the covers over my head at any time, however. If I don't take the laptop, I may fall silent here until Sunday night. We'll see.
