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February 15th, 2018

 

It's quiet at the office today.

Yesterday was the day we found out about the coming year's health insurance plan.  Big changes.  Lotsa hubbub.  Today it's foggy out, with varieties of mush, melt, wet-compactable snow, ice-slush, etc., and it feels slow, inside and out.  A few people are out in my room.  I like the quiet, today, I believe.

Days are getting longer.  There's that.

I have a blood draw in the morning for my first-ever A1C test.  Last time at the doc was the first time my glucose was ever problematically high, and that was the first test after I got on two types of blood pressure med that can raise blood sugar.  But I do like my blood pressure not being high.  Blood sugar issues are scary, too, the more I read about them.  And I don't wanna be getting on any more new drugs if I can help it.

I like that we have trees in here now.  Plus several pieces of art, added after a many-months-long project.  It's not quite so drab, when I look up and find it's gotten more lifeless.  Got some good spurts of work done today.  But it feels later in the day than it is, and I'm gettin' the itch to get outta here.

Got my rug to T.  Brought in & plunked on the free table a coupla candlestick holders that were my mom's and a ceramic oil lamp with a cool stone-like chunka metal as its topper.  I got the latter back in Baltimore when I felt inspired to light my apartment more by flame, after seeing a production of Uncle Vanya with especially well-done lighting that made it look like the whole stage was lit by candles.  But pets make flames extra-dangerous.  And my old partner's grandpa, a volunteer fireman in Corpus Christi, didn't approve of even having decorative candlesticks in the house and never burning candles, cuz even that was somehow endorsing that it be okay to invite disaster.  So I suppose I'll get rid of more of the candle and oil-lamp objects in the box those came out of, but this was a start.

Have you heard about the "Swedish death-cleaning" that is apparently the new thing in decluttering?  It makes me think of lots things, like going through my mother's stuff after she died, and what susandennis has said about her own reformation, and about my old teacher Kendra's poem about clutter (pro-clutter) (or clutter-accepting, you might say) and how my old friend Laura was so fond of that poem, and of its sentiment.  (Not sentimentality.)  (Anything but that!)

More work now.  Then home, dog walk, dinner, MuseScore, maybe a little TV, but I hope not much about people getting shot up, another dog walk, decide about tennis shoes, zzzzzzzzz.
 
Janus
fflo
'Ff'lo

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"What was once thought cannot be unthought."

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