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Training Schedule Week Commences

This (Monday) was a good day for training schedule to give me the day off. I woke up feeling absolutely dreadful, and stayed feeling dreadful the bulk of the evening. I was pondering the truth that my co-worker imparted to me: namely, that snot-thinners and blood thinners don't go well together. I'm glad that I don't have to use blood thinners, especially after the day I've been having. At least I didn't have any more of the dreadful sneezing that I was having over the weekend, the sort of sneeze that gives tonsil whiplash.

I spent much of the day trying to get my thoughts in order to leave the message for Fuzzy's ex. This was evidently one of the major underpinnings of my mind that had shifted without giving notice to me. I was aware that between them, Darkside and my Priestess-Confessor managed to clear away and heal most of the damage done by that idiot, but I wasn't even aware that my feelings toward his wife had changed in any way. When he announced that she was leaving, I must admit that I was cheering inside (and outside as well, to a few selected friends) -- definitely not "Hooray, he's single again, I have a chance again," and not (quite) "Hooray, finally he's gotten a kick where it counts, so he knows how it feels," but "Hooray, she escaped from the same thing I was spared." And I admired that she was able to up and leave him. I didn't have the strength to do that. I'm not sure if I ever would have, if he'd chosen me.

When I went to take a shower, it transpired that the hot water was not as advertised. Miss Alaskan took a brief and shivering shower, omitting the conditioning phase entirely, using language not befitting a lady.

I returned a bit of equipment to Fry's Electronics, and exchanged it for a paper shredder and a more up-to-date corded phone. It amuses me extensively that a low-end phone in 2005 has the same features that a reasonably high-end phone in 2001 or so had, and then some. I spent the balance of the evening at home with the shredder and the phone, setting both of them up, and working away at phrasing my note just so. It takes an immense amount of concentration and angst to get the words in the order I want them, when it's something that matters. I wasn't expecting this to matter so much, but I do feel a certain kinship with her. Fuzzy's still my friend. He's been my friend for so long, but nevertheless she and I both know what it's like to survive more than three years of him. I love him better from a distance, now that I'm an adult. *blink* Evidently Dagger (and evidently I) still love him, albeit almost maternally. Marah wants (sensibly) near unto nothing to do with him, and Naomi never knew him. Demonstratedly, it's difficult for me to unlove someone once I've loved them, though Marah who loved him most when she was Joan-prime still reacts violently when his name comes up.

Enough lost love; it's bedtime.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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