November 18th, 2004

Housewife's Lament

Screen Door

The broken-ass scary screen door that we've been on the asses of the apartment complex to fix practically since we moved in here?

It's been replaced.

SCORE!
  • Current Mood
    pleased pleased
running, bomb tech

Game Plan

It's never wise to have a day like tomorrow without a plan in place for implementation. Therefore:

5:00 am: wake up.
5:30 am: depart with Sis for her workplace.
6:00 am (appx): deposit Sis at her workplace.
6:30 am (appx): show up at plasma place. Perhaps pull a line-hoppy trick by signing in at the clipboard and going and getting some much-needed grocery shopping done before it's time to go back ... or perhaps bringing a pen and paper and dressing for the weather and waiting and writing.
8:00 am: Go inside plasma place. Wait.
9:30 am (appx): Leave plasma place. IF shopping not accomplished, accomplish it; also, bring cans to recycle.
Remainder of morning and part of afternoon: sleep. Later, accomplish housework and like tasks.
3:30 pm: head to Willow House for some serious writing.
4:00 - 11:00 pm (appx): Write my heart/brains/other internal organs out.
11:00 pm: Make my loopy smoke-sodden way home.
11:30 pm: Laundry. Lots of it.

[3:12 am insomniac edit of schedule: stay up, or nap a bit. Drive Sis to work. Come home. Sleep. Then go out and do things after waking-up happens.]

Lather, rinse, repeat. Thursday is my Sunday. Friday is my Monday. Friday is Sis's day off.

Collapse )
running, bomb tech

Why is this journal public?

I sometimes question why I've got all this weird stuff out here for the world to glance at. After all, who should really care about my life? I don't expect even a quarter of the people who read this regularly to care about me as a person.

I started my online journal-like writing back around in 2000, when I started posting random amusing rants about things on my now mostly-defunct website. Those are actually reasonably well-done essays, in the style of my random weird long rambling letters to people, only more focused.

I've been writing in a paper journal since January 16, 1991, the same day the Gulf War started. In the ten years between 1991 and 2001, I managed to fill up a ten gallon plastic tub worth of assorted paper journals: computer printouts, actual bound books, looseleaf binders, spiral-bound notebooks with my random braindumps. Now I put them online.

If it comes out on the page, it doesn't have to stay in my head. I like the ability to Google it, and it's easier to put these things here where a good 80% of the people I actually care about will read it (my father and assorted aunts included). Eh. It's a thing.
  • Current Music
    random guy in coffee house reading poem about LJ