Domesticity and other sins
Oct. 25th, 2004 10:18 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
truepennyHouse guests this weekend: Mirrorthaw's parents, whom I like very much. But being social is tiring. I spent a lot of the weekend hiding in the study with the six boxes of Mirrorthaw's books which they brought, putting them into the catalogue. Because that is the kind of übergeek I am.
2,130 books in the house, not counting![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
heres_luck's. And they're all properly on shelves.
lisajulie, one of the books they brought up is The Tao of Pooh, so I do not need to take you up on your very kind offer to lend it to me.
I am now patching one of my favorite flannel shirts, a hand-me-down from Mirrorthaw: old and soft and therefore starting to lose structural integrity. The great virtue of plaid flannel is that there's no way on earth you can make the patches not look like patches anyway, so I can use my own particular spider-on-LSD buttonhole stitch and not worry about it. Now if I can just convince the cats not to help ...
Not surprisingly, I have Peter Mulvey's song "Shirt" stuck in my head.
V. little writing accomplished this weekend, unsurprisingly, and I didn't really even try. Am thinking, though about reinstituting an old trick: the word-quota. 1,000 words a day, on something. Good, bad, or indifferent, doesn't matter, as long as they're words. Because while I know that, in reality, a deadline of May first is still a long ways away, it doesn't feel like it in my head.
More anxiety dreams about my damn degree last night. This time, the graduating class was self-destructing with tiny nuclear bombs before they could get to graduation. It was really unnerving because I couldn't figure out what they were doing to trigger the bombs and so kept wondering, every time I did something, if this was the thing that was going to do it. Ka-boom. Happily, I did not blow myself up before I got out of the dream.
The mail will come soon. Maybe today's the day.
[ETA: Nope.]
2,130 books in the house, not counting
heres_luck's. And they're all properly on shelves.lisajulie, one of the books they brought up is The Tao of Pooh, so I do not need to take you up on your very kind offer to lend it to me.I am now patching one of my favorite flannel shirts, a hand-me-down from Mirrorthaw: old and soft and therefore starting to lose structural integrity. The great virtue of plaid flannel is that there's no way on earth you can make the patches not look like patches anyway, so I can use my own particular spider-on-LSD buttonhole stitch and not worry about it. Now if I can just convince the cats not to help ...
Not surprisingly, I have Peter Mulvey's song "Shirt" stuck in my head.
V. little writing accomplished this weekend, unsurprisingly, and I didn't really even try. Am thinking, though about reinstituting an old trick: the word-quota. 1,000 words a day, on something. Good, bad, or indifferent, doesn't matter, as long as they're words. Because while I know that, in reality, a deadline of May first is still a long ways away, it doesn't feel like it in my head.
More anxiety dreams about my damn degree last night. This time, the graduating class was self-destructing with tiny nuclear bombs before they could get to graduation. It was really unnerving because I couldn't figure out what they were doing to trigger the bombs and so kept wondering, every time I did something, if this was the thing that was going to do it. Ka-boom. Happily, I did not blow myself up before I got out of the dream.
The mail will come soon. Maybe today's the day.
[ETA: Nope.]
