Stream of Consciousness
May. 3rd, 2010 08:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wyld_dandelyonI’m sitting at a car place while my not-new car gets new tires, bored. I’d have liked to put off getting new tires at least until autumn; you need the extra tread in winter more than summer, after all. But going by the air pump every couple of days isn’t a good thing, for time or safety. And that’s driving only about 20 blocks to work!
There’s too much light hitting my eyes for using the laptop to be easy, and no internet in any case. If I could read them, I do have notes on edits for some of my as-yet unpublished Torn World stories, but it’s easier to see the dust motes on the screen than the letters hiding in the pixels inside it, so I'm just typing, letting my mind wander.
I spent too much of my weekend cleaning house, or so my allergies are telling me. And once I get back home, I’m sure my nose will start dripping again, since I didn’t get enough done to be able to mop. I’m generally better with spring than winter, but the tree pollens and molds are still allergens, as are the curls of cat hair the kitties are shedding because it’s Spring.
And I have too many kittens for the allergies too; it’s time to find them some new homes. Though a nice lady at my temp job brought me some cat treats and toys for the kittens, which was very sweet. And she’ll show her niece the pictures. It’s just so totally not fair that I’m allergic to cats, you know.
My girl is getting “an award” at a ceremony at her school later this month. She doesn’t know what it is. But whatever it might be, it’s another excuse to let her know we’re proud of her, which is a good thing. She’s working very hard, and I think that she could use the encouragement, no matter how independent she wants to be, which is, of course, more independent than how impressively independent she actually is.
I’m worried about having yet more oil in our ocean, heading for beautiful parts of my country. It’s just one more reason to find clean, renewable ways to power our lives, of course. But it was that years ago when a different shore was blackened and poisoned and laid waste, and still, here we are, fighting wars and breaking economies over oil.
I am less optimistic than I used to be. I keep reminding myself, pessimists may be closer to right more of the time, but optimists get more done. And I have a lot I want to do in my life, even if most of it can be measured only by pixels on computer screens, and even less tangible (or at least less measurable) thoughts in other people’s minds. So I’m going to keep trying to cling to optimism, and hope, and beauty.
Despite the emergency vehicles that keep going by, almost one per paragraph, slowing traffic and sirens echoing down the streets. Despite the oil spill, and the allergies, and the unemployment and the fact that we all break, eventually, and die.
Everything that lives dies.
But first, by living, we change the world.
Even if it’s just one pixel at a time.
There’s too much light hitting my eyes for using the laptop to be easy, and no internet in any case. If I could read them, I do have notes on edits for some of my as-yet unpublished Torn World stories, but it’s easier to see the dust motes on the screen than the letters hiding in the pixels inside it, so I'm just typing, letting my mind wander.
I spent too much of my weekend cleaning house, or so my allergies are telling me. And once I get back home, I’m sure my nose will start dripping again, since I didn’t get enough done to be able to mop. I’m generally better with spring than winter, but the tree pollens and molds are still allergens, as are the curls of cat hair the kitties are shedding because it’s Spring.
And I have too many kittens for the allergies too; it’s time to find them some new homes. Though a nice lady at my temp job brought me some cat treats and toys for the kittens, which was very sweet. And she’ll show her niece the pictures. It’s just so totally not fair that I’m allergic to cats, you know.
My girl is getting “an award” at a ceremony at her school later this month. She doesn’t know what it is. But whatever it might be, it’s another excuse to let her know we’re proud of her, which is a good thing. She’s working very hard, and I think that she could use the encouragement, no matter how independent she wants to be, which is, of course, more independent than how impressively independent she actually is.
I’m worried about having yet more oil in our ocean, heading for beautiful parts of my country. It’s just one more reason to find clean, renewable ways to power our lives, of course. But it was that years ago when a different shore was blackened and poisoned and laid waste, and still, here we are, fighting wars and breaking economies over oil.
I am less optimistic than I used to be. I keep reminding myself, pessimists may be closer to right more of the time, but optimists get more done. And I have a lot I want to do in my life, even if most of it can be measured only by pixels on computer screens, and even less tangible (or at least less measurable) thoughts in other people’s minds. So I’m going to keep trying to cling to optimism, and hope, and beauty.
Despite the emergency vehicles that keep going by, almost one per paragraph, slowing traffic and sirens echoing down the streets. Despite the oil spill, and the allergies, and the unemployment and the fact that we all break, eventually, and die.
Everything that lives dies.
But first, by living, we change the world.
Even if it’s just one pixel at a time.
