Just made some of the cookies
The importance of the shit-giving MacGuffin, for a good many of us, can hardly be overestimated.
Done some communicating today & yesterday about luvvin' and desires and lacks of desire. There's stuff to think about there. So much, though, dances around the McCoy, which is not real at all, yet is much more real than all the rest. I do try, gamely, to craft realities around it, as if it weren't there, right under the disco ball, sparkling at me from the five hundred little mirrors, at turns wildly and mellowly, in sharp focus and in fuzzy hazy marvelous bittersweet twinkles, as if I've doffed the specs & am just taking it in as it comes to my most natural receptors.
It's been a pretty ordinary day, this Tuesday Monday. And that's good. The adjustment to being back at work was a little tricky, but by the time I left I was okay with it all. Even glad of it.
And now the trash can stuff is in, and the cats & kits are comfortable, and I debate whether to return to Shower or to Special Topics in Calamity Physics. Probably should be the latter, as it's thick & I just started & it's due at the library in 10 days & I'm a slow reader. But it's in with the little fuzzies, and they're napping happily, having had good bit of lovin' earlier, and the claw clipping, and the sweeping up & dirty quilt removal for cleaning.
Think I'll save the tomato signs for another night.