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7 October 1998 |
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This is not meant to misuse a psychological term. These days have two poles, very up and very down. The frequency between cycles can be shorter than 24 hours, sometimes even shorter than 12. A period is coming. My concentration is as short as my temper. But I'm not blaming the spiraling despair nor crediting the euphoric joy on this. It's just another factor. God, I had so much to say here, and now it's gone. I like it better when I can write from work. Writing from home just isn't as productive, or lucid, or whatever. I'm too tired to write very well. I ran over a cat yesterday. An orange blur ran under my front bumper as I was approaching a tricky set of curves on Belmar Boulevard, and I had already hit it before I could gasp. I swung the car around to see if there was anything that could be done, but the legs were stretching reflexively, as it couldn't possibly be alive with only half a head. The sis and I were so horrified. Neither of us spoke for a long time. I had to go and brag about my economic strategies, then screw up and pay some bills that could have waited until mid-month, so now I'm short for the next week or so. It's been leaner than this before, but that doesn't make it any fun. Even so, the kickass Halloween party I'm planning is still on. I have backing from a few friends and so we rock on. The party is Friday, October 30 at my place on the airport. You are most definitely invited; please email me for directions. Some decorations are already going up in the house, mostly in the form of window static clings. I found some blueprints and site plans in the dumpster today. They really are interesting looking. Think I will keep em, or at least some of them, with the maps. --Spring
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