January 22nd, 2020

winter house

Bow Tie Tuesday

Yikes, it's gotten all late on me.  Long day.  Came home midmorning to meet plumber to get me hot water again.  Went to midday appt.  Came home midafternoon to see if I had hot water--- which I did!  Do!!  A shower is going to feel SO good in the morning.

I'd take one now, but then my hair'd be wet going to bed, unless I dried it, and ugh nah I'll just wait 'til morning.  I've written myself up as not in 'til 10, so maybe it can be a leisurely shower.

I worked late, too, so later supper and such.  Do have yogurt and granola and berries ready to go in the morn.  The work is piling up at MR, predictably.  Not just the usual January backlog, but more, cuzza the forced holidays.

Here's today's tie:

Oddly, I haven't begun to write out or even talk out a draft of my big open talk this coming weekend.  I freakin' need to get on that.  I've had some ideas / notions / threads / touchstones occur to me.  But I want it to be reasonably well organized, vs. just me talking for 45 minutes.  I think I'm in a pretty good headspace to be reaching inward to some soulspace to do that kind of thing.  But who knows.  Maybe I've just gotten so used to it being something in the distant future that it doesn't seem real that it's almost upon me.  I think I'm going to skip the produce sorting volunteering tomorrow evening so I can sit down and put pen to paper, or click on keys, or both.  Possibly plus talking out loud to try to get into the tone of it.

Funny, I don't think twice about talking to animals in the house.  When I lost my voice recently I noticed how very much I talk to them.  And talking to myself is no biggie.  But there seems something silly in talking aloud as if to others.  I think I'm self-conscious about rehearsing what I'm going to say, like there's ignominy in it.  And danger, in that it could slip into that thing I'm going to talk about that slogan about:  what you think of me is none of my business.

But concern for one's audience is appropriate in this situation.  There will be a higher percentage of alcoholics than I'm accustomed to recovery talking in front of.  And a higher percentage of queers.  Majority queers, I'm guessing.  How many, who knows.  No clue how well-attended the thing will be.

Time for bed now.  Goodnight.