Category Archives: Diary

Tuesday, right?

I’m all messed up week-wise. All morning I’ve been thinking it’s Wednesday, because I went into the bookstore yesterday instead of today on Tuesday, my usual day. However, the writing jam has been switched from Thursday to Tuesday (possibly temporarily due to yet more schedule changes), which is today – or so my calendar tells me. My brain is struggling to maintain the Wednesday-day-after-work truth simultaneously with the Thursday-writing-jam-day truth, along with the Tuesday-according-to-the-calendar truth. It’s very sad, but I think I’m getting a headache from trying to figure out what day it is.

The solution is probably to stop thinking altogether and go check on the laundry.

Air

I really, really ought to remember to open the windows in here more often. I discovered a warm, fresh-smelling world when I went out to pick up laundry detergent at the corner. Now that they’re open, the place feels more awake and relaxed. And the entire caboodle of kittens are now squished into the open windows, pressing as close to the fascinating new smells of the Great Outdoors as they possibly can.

Grumbles

I woke up with every intention of having a wonderful day, and bit by bit it trickled away from me. My cold got worse, I had to deal with a frustrating phone call which involved an elderly gentleman assuming I had taken over a project I’d never been asked to handle, and I only got 1K done on the book when I thought I’d done at least 2K. That last was really the kicker. There are times when I think that what I know wouldn’t fill up even 30K of this book, which is inversely proportional to how I feel when I’m teaching this subject in a live workshop.

I also missed last night’s improv workshop t! whipped up for actor friends because my voice kept cutting out and I couldn’t stop coughing, which annoyed me because I don’t get the chance to do theatre any more. HRH persuaded me to go out for a nice long walk after dinner and took me to the Dairy Queen for ice cream, which was just fine by me. We bought more cold medication on the way home too.

Last night’s dreams were an odd blend of orchestra rehearsing in church basements (courtesy of theatre-associated thoughts, most likely); large sedate toy/department stores which sold beautiful aquariums near large displays of Harry Potter books; Virginia Woolf memorabilia which transported me to being VW as a child when I held it or put it on; fish chained in the aquariums so they couldn’t get out; grocery shopping during the break at orchestra, and not being able to get back in time because I was driving in the sun on the West Island and the car clock was wrong. My dreams have been quite vivid lately. What they mean is anyone’s guess. What on earth do second violins trying to sit with the cellos have to do with VW, or me showing my dad the chained fish crawling out of the aquariums?

Well, well; the radio news is reporting that according to StatsCan, if you make it to your fifth year of marriage, you’re more likely to stick it out in the long run. I take it that the statistics indicate most contemporary marriages dissolve in the first four years. Evidently HRH and I have about four months to save ourselves from a lifetime of loving companionship and intelligent conversation.

Now that our bills are paid and we have groceries, I intend to pick up the new Diana Krall album on my way into the store today. I am determined to be in a good mood, or at least in a better mood than yesterday. I think I’ll pick up the VW biography I put down a few months ago too.

Bits and Pieces

I’m better today, thanks to my selfless husband leaving during Smallville last night to pick up DayQuil/NyQuil for me.

Since I didn’t get out yesterday, I made sure I went out this morning. It felt so good to be outside in warm weather instead of grey overcast damp world in which I usually end up travelling. I went downtown to deposit a cheque and pay the next three months on the post box I rent with a friend. At the bank I discovered that my money has apparently thawed, since I was able to transfer a chunk to my other account and then access it via debit. Huzzah! Bills to pay! Costume elements to pick up! Groceries to buy!

Tonight Skippy‘s coming over to do the final modem switch between my current computer and my brand-new-used-to-be-Scott‘s computer. So if all goes well, tomorrow I’ll be using a new system. (It’s never that easy; I know this well. Let me be optimistic, okay?)

During today’s writing jam, t! and I listened to various 80s rock and 70s punk albums. No one will ever believe that the first half of Chapter 7 was written to “Holiday in Cambodia” — either of the versions we heard. (1.5K today. Not great, but not bad.)

I mentioned to t! today that I feel like a traitor spelling words like “color” and “emphasize” a la American in this text, as opposed to good solid UK/Canadian spelling. He assured me that I was traitorous. Such love and support.

And I’ve somehow missed this Memphis Slim song up till now, but thanks to the new Susie Ariloli album it’s firmly entrenched in my brain:

MOTHER EARTH
(words and music by Memphis Slim)

You may play the race horses
You may own the whole race track
You may have all the money to buy anything you lack
I don’t care how big you are
I don’t care what you think you’re worth
When it all comes down we got to go back to mother earth

You may own half the city wear diamonds and pearls
You may have a jet plane and fly it all around the world
I don’t care how big you are
I don’t care what you think you’re worth
When it all comes down we got to go back to mother earth

You may have a great army at your command
You may have some politician eating out of your hand
You may have some servant who’ll do anything you say
But mother earth is waiting, it’s a debt you gotta pay
I don’t care how big you are
I don’t care what you think you’re worth
When it all comes down we got to go back to mother earth

Drat

We had a wonderful birthday party for my goddaughter. She played with everyone, appreciated her presents (“Look! Look!”), handed round cake with style (“Happy Birthday cake!”), and we all got to spend time with people we don’t see as often as we should. By the end of it, we all were ready for a nap; it seems that no one slept well on Friday night. HRH and I arrived home mid-afternoon, and next on my agenda was to pop by the MPRC Beltaine Fair downtown. I was so sleepy that I lay down and closed my eyes, figuring I’d have a quick catnap to get out of my zombie-like state, then bus into town… and when I woke up, it was six in the evening, and the phone was ringing.

Evidently my body decided to get back at least some of the hours of sleep it missed out on the previous night. Fine, except couldn’t it have taken just one hour, then saved the rest for later? I would have gone to bed early. I really, really wanted to see what was on sale at the fair, and see how the workshops went.

Drat. And of course, because my body had stolen sleep during the day, I wasn’t tired enough to sleep again until midnight. Grr.

On the good side, HRH and I sat down last night for an in-depth joint Tarot reading looking at the next twelve months, posing questions and reading for different time-frames (electional Tarot! – well, if you’re an astrologer you’ll get the joke), and our projected plans seem to have quite favorable outcomes. It did a lot to settle doubts and nerves.