was feeling incredulous, but then decided i'd rather just not care. there is too little in the way of true life, or else life lived truthfully, to waste time getting worked up.
have been making lists and compiling lists and organizing lists on graph paper and transferring them to word note pad, excel spreadsheets, trying to see which one will make me feel like doing things in the proper sequence, and with the right amount of vigor.
trying to just say the things i'm thinking, which is pretty safe when i'm in a good mood. wonder if i could do it when i'm in some sort of funk. the habit is to not.
took the bike back out again this week. hadn't been on it for a while, and i promise to take my camera along some sunday or so, when i've worked up the stamina to go into the mountains down-river.
the work takes a lot out of a person. if i've taken one thing from living here, it's that you really need a concept of relaxation... not just recreation or drinking-time. work is everything. what do i mean everything? (tell 'em gary oldman)
i need a second.
pounding around on the keyboard, making noise at something, the stories still feel clangy, but they are stories
lots of typing around things, not much to relate...
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