There are sticky notes covering my desk. They all have numbers on them. Figures really. Mostly. And without any solid frame of reference, I have no idea what they mean. One contains a listing of dates. Just dates. Nothing else. I have an inkling that I was supposed to have entered them on a calendar. But without a corresponding event, the date is just a date and if memory serves, a calendar already contains dates. It’s the very basis of the thing.
My head swirls, dizzied by chaos passing itself as order in my life.
I need bread because the dog still has antibiotics. Shit like that makes total sense to me.
I’m pondering/planning a family vacation this summer. Actually, we’ve got plans. I’m augmenting them with awesomeness. But then, aren’t planned plans always awesome? I need a feasibility study. But I have no idea what a feasibility study is. Or how to use one. My problem with planning ahead is that I tend to mentally check out in anticipation of the awesomeness that is travel with my family. We’re not going anywhere until July. I have a feeling that checking out now will be frowned upon.
The school just called me. Zoë has a sore throat. I knew that when I sent her in this morning. Buck up kid, I’ve got laundry to fold.
I ate a kangaroo this weekend. It was delicious.
I bought a new flash for my camera which I’m still learning how to use.