February 13th, 2005

Raven, Eris, kallisti, shiny

On my mind lately: clergyspace

When I put my headspace into clergy mode, I'm damn near unshockable. If I'm come to as clergy, with confession, or need of ministry, I slip into somewhere above neutral and become somewhat other than myself. metaphorge posted a quote about the universe from Albert Einstein, and I was moved to speak.

I wound up with a better description of the headspace than I've ever had before: pitiless compassion. Mike would call it "grokking", I think. To understand so well that you cannot help to both hate and love and all the other range of emotions it's possible to feel for another human being.

Pitiless compassion. I like the sound of that.
Housewife's Lament

Highlighters

Some of the highlighters I used on the job vanished sometime between last night and this morning. On my grocery expedition (more lettuce, a Valentine's gift, and a food processor) I found some new ones. New shiny ones, ones which I have threaded on a shoelace so there will be no mistaking them for anyone else's, and no wandering off.

Pictures shall be forthcoming.

After I've delivered the gift, pictures of that should be forthcoming as well. *grin* I like being adopted, even though hearing that range of the Speech makes passers-by look at one as if one's absolutely nuts.
running, bomb tech

Sunday

A lot of people on the phone are telling the phone
goon King of Birdbrains that, big surprise to us all,
it's Sunday!

He shared this with me.

It's 10am already, and the vast majority of my
paperwork is done. In fact, checking with Pink Shirt
Guy, all of the paperwork that doesn't depend on
others is done. Hee.

This means that aside from working on the one
spreadsheet and checking people in and out, I'm
booooored -- except, of course, for talking to people
who don't think they have problems but they actually
do -- and, of course, for telling the King of
Birdbrains to not stand ON his chair (I think he was
talking to someone in another part of the call
center)...

Oy. Is it lunchtime yet?
running, bomb tech

Things said in the workplace, part 502131032

Rev. Nice Super: "You're sugar and spice ... and
everything that rhymes with 'gas'. ... You're missing
the big picture here: you're sugar and spice!"

Vocabulary words for the workplace: "obstreperous",
which I fairly accurately defined as like obnoxious,
except with more noise. (This was most recently
applied to King of Birdbrains.) Etymology fun:
"stroppy" is probably derived from "obstreperous".

Standing. On his chair.

Rev. Nice Super is appending "And that's a scientific
fact!" to everything he says around here. (update:
he's just declared that he's going to say that after
everything he says today, to give his statements more
credibility. I pointed out that he undermined his
credibility by saying things that weren't scientific
facts were. "That's fine. ... and that's a scientific
fact!")

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running, bomb tech

Bonds

Called Darkside last night, and we had fun chatting.
I'm amazed how much he starts telling me about stuff
in his life when he starts talking. It wouldn't be
horribly much for anyone else, but for him, he who
never talks about himself, it's amazing.

I like the idea that he talks to me. I really do. That
means he trusts me. And really, if I have his trust
and affection, what more do I need? Some things took
me too long to figure out, though my undermind was
almost there all along. I knew I was fine with things
as they are after one of the Mr. Shallow incidents,
but it took me a while to get my words wrapped around
why I was fine with things.

Love, to me, is the artistic combination of affection
and trust, and occasionally lust. Add in loyalty, and
you have it. Hooray, love.

I told him about a lot of the
functioning-of-Loony-brain updates that he'd missed.
How, most days, the fragmentation's barely notable
now, and that's barely notable to the internal
monitor. Among co-workers, among strangers, I pass as
a singleton. I told him about the history, briefly,
the root causes and how the thing that made everything
go haywire was treated.

Slowly but surely.

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