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Trump is doing good things. I think that's why the media rags on him so much. They want to see him fail spectacularly, and he's not failing as spectacularly as they would like.
She doesn't know anything about anything. Should parents homeschool their children. Many do an excellent job, but there are others who give homeschooling a bad name. I used to want to homeschool my kids, but I feel as though I am not the right person to do it. I could teach them about certain things, but I don't know much about many others. It gets complicated.
I've been working on these batches for a long time. I feel gross today. I have to go to church and volunteer later and don't feel like doing it. I guess I'll just have to wait until I feel better or until the end of the day gets close and I start feeling bored or restless. Hopefully there will be food, so it won't be that bad. I have to go to the doctor. I'm hoping that it's what I think it is, and it's not that particular thing that I'm dreading. I wish I hadn't eaten Arby's last night.
This too shall pass. I have to remember that when freakouts happen. I'm happily sitting at home, relaxing for what seems to be the first time this week. The lady next door is walking her dog. I'm supposed to have the runs from the antibiotics they put me on. I'm trying to stay ahead of the "running" curve. They told me to flush myself by drinking water and soup. Do you drink soup or eat it? A philosophical question. I want to write him a love letter for Valentine's. Make it pretty. Put it on nice paper. Fill in some scrapbook.
I don't know what to do. I'm at an absolute loss. I guess the easy thing to say would be "I shoulda never done that," but "shoulda, woulda, coulda" don't really matter. Done bun can't be undone. I think I got that from a Stephen King book. The guy is so wise, but I find it hard to believe that he is a liberal. It's OK. It'll be what it is. I don't want to eat at McDonald's this week. But he will pitch a fit over it because that's just how he is. Fine. It's whatever. Too bad you were spoiled.
I'm wondering if the loss of bacteria is causing this bad mood, but then I realized that this is the bad mood I get into when I'm in a relationship. I can't handle relationships. I just don't feel like I can, especially when I feel like I'm not being listened to or taken seriously. I want to curl up in a hole and never come out. I hate when this happens. Fortunately, I don't have that many meetings this week. That's going to be the fortunate thing. I get to pick up my car sticker and a host of boring stuff.
The dream has come to pass. They all come to pass eventually, or they are reminders of things that already were. The moral law is right. If it is not OK to abuse children, then it should be not OK to do other things. People make life so complicated by dividing everything into shades of gray when it really should be black and white. I think I see things in gray a lot more than I used to because I understand that some things can't be divided up. But I am a stronger believer in what is black and white.
These curated boxes are all the rage now. It would be cool if there was a curated book box (I'm sure this already exists) where you put your preferences for reading into a website, and the site sends you three books. Then you read and review, send back, and the site sends you more, and you keep customizing your choices. That would be super cool, like a personalized library. There would be an annual or monthly subscription fee. They have something like that for clothes and (I think) makeup, so why not books? Books are the bomb. Maybe for music too.
There are four sins that cry to heaven for vengeance. Supposedly one of them is homosexuality. Now, I don't think being homosexual is a sin because God made certain people that way. It's just another form of concupiscence, or the tendency toward sin. We all have a tendency toward sin. We just have to not act on that tendency, and that is the hardest struggle of life. Not to do what we so badly want to do. Everyone has those yearnings, but some have them in different areas than others. Your sin is not mine, but all sins are bad in God's eyes.
Whatever I feed into your head will come out in some way. It may be a dream, an action, or a thought you believed was spontaneous and from your own mind. Some people are more easily swayed and tricked by others, and I guess you are one of those. I don't intend to do that. I'm just telling you something, and if you think that hard about it, it's not my fault. I'm just the messenger. I'm tired of worrying about whose fault everything is. I need things to look forward to, not all this spontaneity, although I do like the word.
You can't take the Dragula video seriously. It's just so stupid. Rob Zombie does direct movies, but I hope he didn't direct that video. It just makes no sense. I get the old-timey scary movie vibe, but it just doesn't quite work.
Addiction is selfishness to the highest degree, and that's why addicts have a hard time sustaining marriage. Because they have a great deal of pride to get over. Marriage is hard in general, but add addiction to the mix, and you have something even more difficult. One would also argue that ADHD is pure selfishness, but it's just non-neurotypical behavior.
Some people's writing is so obscure that I don't understand it, and I wonder if they are just way smarter than me or if I just haven't taken the time to get it but it's really so easy once you think about it. I love to read, but my reading comprehension isn't that great.
The people next door let their dog escape. He went away without realizing it, out the door. They closed the door and went on about their business, thinking their dog was under the bed. But we saw him curled up outside on the mat, looking forlorn.
I'm behind again. I was thinking that I ought to remake one of my older stories, make it more cohesive so that it can stand by myself. Still keep it mysterious, but perhaps give it a more religious/spiritual vibe, take away the wanton sex scenes and basically take it out of the rough draft smut stage. Then it has a chance in hell of being a good story. I also have to make the characters more distinct and make their motivations make sense. That's hard in itself. So I basically have to start from scratch with this crazy story.
It's been so hard to get motivated to do anything, and I don't know why that is. Maybe because it feels like I am never home and can't focus. I need silence. Lent is coming tomorrow, and I've never been more ready to retreat into silence. I think I'm going to work on using positive words and keeping silent when I feel like making some kind of complaint. That will be a hard enough challenge in itself. Get to a penance service, pray, just try to be a better person. The same thing I try to do and fail at every day.
Today is the double whammy of Ash Wednesday and Valentine's Day. I have chosen to do the McLent plan: give up music, Internet, and complaining. MIC. MICK. McLent. Get it? I'm hopelessly corny. Giving up the Internet involves not going on unless it's for work or of grave importance. I should also give up my phone as well. I took the Internet functionality off it, which is annoying, but nobody truly needs the Internet on their phone. Whatever did we do in those horrible days before the Internet? I also took off the location function, so Google can't track my every move.
Halfway through the month. About to go into another "drought" period, and I wonder how torturous it will be. I could hardly handle the first one, but I'm exaggerating. Palmer chocolate got better over the years, or perhaps I have gotten more greedy for chocolate no matter how "bad" it is. I'm going to stop complaining, remember the McLent plan. It is warm outside, which is a blessing. No need to put the heat on in the apartment. I have 50 thousand emails to catch up on. My friend sent me a Valentine's Day card, which was very sweet of her.
He falls asleep with the lights on, with all his clothes on, on the couch. I can't make him wake up, can't make him study, can't make him do anything. His mother thinks she can make him do all that because she is his mother and she knew him when he was small and could be physically manipulated into doing things. He is big now and could hurt you, just like the Labrador puppy she got because he grew up and married me and she needed something to train and mother because she could no longer do that for him.
Well, well, well. Back again. But that means nothing. That ship has gone far off into the night. I was trying to teach a friend of mine some theology, and I don't know how miserably I might have failed. I felt like saying something like "Just watch EWTN and you will understand All the Things," but I didn't. I have to file the taxes, I have to make the budget. I have to write checks and generally be a responsible adult. I'm going to leave at 4:30 to go to church and probably wait for my mom to get there.
I don't need to say anything because it is already screamingly obvious. I guess it is obvious every time someone looks at my face. I am in love, gravely in love, and that is my undoing, but it is the most glorious undoing I have ever dealt with. He brings the colors into my life, he paints my face with joy, he smiles at me and my soul smiles back. I cannot help myself; he is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. He brought me out of the darkness. I will do anything for my soul mate.
2/20: Today is the Twentieth, so we are almost all the way through the month with barely a week left. It is going to be a month full of craziness. March, I'm not so sure about. I just hope I get a decent paycheck, which should always be the same. We have had to pay through the nose for Obamacare. How is that a good thing? Because they are considering my income. They think I am rich and should not have been on Obamacare. I want to hire an accountant to do our taxes and not take money out of IRA.
I have had the same mouse and the same chair since I started here. I would have the same keyboard, but they offered me a new one, so I took it. The chair and mouse have never given me problems. I think I give myself problems by focusing so hard at work that my eyes get strained and I get headaches. "I want nothing more than to be able to work outside" (that's what a bunch of my coworkers said). I know I couldn't concentrate worth a damn outside, so I'll stay in and relish the silence while they're all out.
Maybe this dream will finally become a reality, after what seems like 4 million years. Maybe we will finally get this story online, and maybe it will finally be where it needs to be--shared with people, in the public eye. It's so funny to be with someone who shares my paranoia about being too prideful or too humble. I guess I could say he shares my scrupulosity. (That's a weird word.) Also, who says "as pretty as a picture" anymore? I don't know. I keep dreaming about the cruise ship and hotels. Some part of me wants to go back.
I'm finally getting to post my biggest (and oldest) story online! I'm so excited. I've been meaning to do this for the longest time and am just now getting around to it. That's the best thing that's happened to me in a long time. But it didn't happen to me. I made the effort and I'm doing it myself. I think that's what life is all about... not waiting for it to happen to you, but going out and actually doing something about your situation or what you want or your goals. It took long enough to figure that out.
I think I scared my friend with too much talk of theology of the body. Welp, he wanted the reason why Catholics don't believe in birth control and condoms, so... he got it! I didn't word it in a rude way, I don't think. I worded it like "they believe" and "it is believed" not "God wants us to believe" or "God mandates that we believe" because he seems to be very touchy about the idea of God wanting anything from us or telling us that we MUST do something. Moral relativism. I don't think he never really knew Catholics.
Today my brother gets married. I actually got my nails done for the equation, went with his fiance and her friend. This is the first and last time I will ever get my nails done. Too expensive, and the experience freaked me out more than relaxed me. It's odd having some woman you don't know massage your hands with cream and run her hands up your arms. It's even weirder trying to pick out a color of nail polish. I picked purple because it matches the dress I'm wearing, but I don't own any other purple clothes, so the color won't go with anything else.
Well, I was peacefully composing my post and the entire thing deleted. Life is life. What is life? It is hard to type with manicured claws, and I used to type 90 words per minute. I was talking about people stepping on the new bride's dress. Trains are long and excessive. Weddings are all about tradition, but nobody knows what all the individual traditions mean. Everyone seems to think that they know or they can recast tradition and do it in their own image, but that's never correct (or hardly ever). I want to write down the title of the last book I finished.
I don't reject, I accept. That was a comma splice. I hate the thought of having to make a presentation in front of my colleagues. I really wish I didn't care so much about what these people thought. I only spend 8 hours a day with them five (actually four) days a week with the exception of the one day I work from home. That may turn into two days from home pretty soon, but I don't know. I hate how people are so much quicker than I am at understanding others' motives. I hate being so naive all the time.
I hurt and I'm not sure why. My nails are still purple. I'm still figuring out how to revise my story. Life is a giant wheel, and we're constantly going around and around. Sometimes we get caught in the cycles of others, but sometimes we manage to escape. I think so hard about things, but I make such stupid decisions that it's a wonder I ever think at all. Still, I keep a happy heart. It's one of the most difficult things to maintain in a cold, cruel world that doesn't care about you but about hot-button issues and not people.
I dreamed about my characters. Well, actually I dreamed that a bunch of people were critiquing the story I was writing. I was gritting my teeth at what they were saying, but it wasn't bad, and I was planning to revise because their comments were helpful. I just don't like someone reading my stuff while I'm in the room. That is too overwhelming for me. I can take criticism, just not at the moment that it's being conceived in someone's head, if that makes any sense. I made it to the end of the month, and I'm happy because of it.
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