I was definitely up for a few hours last night thinking about how my reporting is going to impact eeeeeeverybody. So, yes I DID lose sleep over it, Karen.
Blarg.
In other news, some thoughts about the felt sense of time passing. Being in this encounter with someone I used work with (and who was very solid at the time) but just…not feeling the current relevancy of they themselves in this role in this moment. Time, pandemics, events, just scrubbing it all away and being left with a glow of general good feeling…but have a gut feel that still. Something’s a bit off.
Trying to catch up on household stuff and get stuff done before Statistics drops on…Monday? Next Monday? Usually I get an email that’s all like: get your textbook, bitch!And I have gotten no such email. Am I going to need a calculator? Will there be lots of “remember this from Algebra”s? Is literally anyone available to tutor me in exchange for coffee massages childcare or shimmies? No? Cool.
Fucking TIME, man.
It feels like I’m spread over time and space. One hand in 2010 and all those places, one hand in a span of time that involves my kids at work and feeling so. Much. Grief. I’m leaving them. One foot in the last week of July 2023 and another trying to stand outside of time and avoid the self care/parent/daughter/spouse/homeowner/adult stuff by being really way too into Love Is Blind and The Circle (not very useful as far as special interests go) and throwing the little bits of executive function I have at the most emergent issues as they arises. Like, oh shit: swimming, dishes, laundry, bills, side hustle, half of a home project, fuck it’s Mother’s Day tomorrow, etc. I can plan as much as anyone likes, but will I find the will to follow through?
Not without some small t self-traumatizing, Jesse Lacey. Also, shame on you! Shame on the early aughts! Shame on us all.
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