ArcticTern of Shadow
Nov. 14th, 2017 10:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ismoI did at least two things today. It was a really nice day, without wind or rain, and thus suitable for raking leaves. I got outside and raked up five bags of leaves so they're ready to go off to the city composter tomorrow. It was more tiring than I expected, which I don't like. I'm out of practice at yard work! It was good for me to be out in the sun. I don't like my attytude these days. I'm trying to be supportive and calm, but I get irritable and grumpy really fast. Things get on my nerves. So it was good to get one simple thing done.
I also succeeded in giving blood. I missed the last blood drive because we were out of town. I feel mighty, briefly, when I give blood. It's something good I can do to help people, and I don't have to be in a good mood. I just have to be puncturable. The techs and nurses were young and cute, and I enjoyed listening to them chat about Christmas decorations and tease each other.
I'm so behind on my NaNoWriMo project. But I should be able to catch up by cheating diligently. By "cheating," I mean that large swaths of my wordage this time around are editing and revising, not straight creation. I think I am reshaping this into a form that will be an improvement, but I just need to focus. This is my problem with everything these days. The leaf-raking project was prefaced by an extended rant about how pointless it is to keep up with the yardwork when we're all gonna die and this place shall know me no more. The Sparrowhawk, trying to finish his lunch and pack up to go to a meeting where he will dutifully work because that's what he does, until the week ends and HIS place shall know him no more, inquired, "When is this going to happen?" "Nobody knows," I growled. "That's the whole point. Nobody knows when it will happen. Nobody knows when your agency will be whisked away, and you'll end up in assisted care eating reconstituted mashed potatoes." Old age, sickness, and death--these were the three things that goaded the Buddha into enlightenment. I just rage and pace and behave generally like a pain in the ass.
I also succeeded in giving blood. I missed the last blood drive because we were out of town. I feel mighty, briefly, when I give blood. It's something good I can do to help people, and I don't have to be in a good mood. I just have to be puncturable. The techs and nurses were young and cute, and I enjoyed listening to them chat about Christmas decorations and tease each other.
I'm so behind on my NaNoWriMo project. But I should be able to catch up by cheating diligently. By "cheating," I mean that large swaths of my wordage this time around are editing and revising, not straight creation. I think I am reshaping this into a form that will be an improvement, but I just need to focus. This is my problem with everything these days. The leaf-raking project was prefaced by an extended rant about how pointless it is to keep up with the yardwork when we're all gonna die and this place shall know me no more. The Sparrowhawk, trying to finish his lunch and pack up to go to a meeting where he will dutifully work because that's what he does, until the week ends and HIS place shall know him no more, inquired, "When is this going to happen?" "Nobody knows," I growled. "That's the whole point. Nobody knows when it will happen. Nobody knows when your agency will be whisked away, and you'll end up in assisted care eating reconstituted mashed potatoes." Old age, sickness, and death--these were the three things that goaded the Buddha into enlightenment. I just rage and pace and behave generally like a pain in the ass.
no subject
Date: 2017-11-17 03:23 am (UTC)