Am trying to close these fucking labs, with little success. Luckily, Campus Police has got my back, and surprised me by closing Karpen for me! Which means I didn't get to sign up for advising. Still, bright side, since that's what today's been all about.
It started out rough, which is pretty usual, by this point. In spite of some bad dreams, I made it to Poetics of Perception for the first time in ages, and we workshopped villanelles, and it was not the most thrilling time ever, but we went over Joanna's, which was really incredible, and I talked to her for a while after class and it was really affirming. Went back to wake Marshall, and cried a whole lot, for reasons I can't actually remember very well now. Lunch with my favorite people helped, and so did watching Pecker with Jeff and talking about Bengal cats and Fern Gully music and furries while watching Asheville's public bulletin channel. I think that Jeff and I are in line on a lot of things right now, feeling all hectic and out-of-place, and it was so good to see him again and to spend all that time laughing. Dinner was a chance to continue the hysterics, revisiting our television sitcom story and talking about mean kids we knew way-back-when. We loitered outside, and then Marshall called and asked me to meet her in the parking lot before work.
She brought me this sweet potted orchid, 'cause it's our five months, and we took it up to my room and lay in bed, listening to boyband music, 'til I was pretty late for work. I'm going over there in ten minutes, if these fuckers ever leave the labs, and that's going to be good. She's good, better than I expected, somehow, and so is what we've got. I figured it'd just be something fun, and I'd fall in love but stop short of ever saying so where she could hear me, and we'd be like friends who spent nights together and, I don't know, giggle a lot? When instead, our subconsciouses are starting to scare us a little, and I'm all shaken-up and hopeful and sometimes pass entire hours without ever wondering how I'm going to fuck this up. Way to be a serial monogamist, Jen. The plan was to stay single, to have fun, to not fall again 'til I'd uncluttered myself a bit. But this is fun, and it's nice to say yes, sometimes, and to be able to ask for what I want, hard as that still seems, and to wake up to something even better than my best dreams have been. So, five months. Who saw that coming?
I have "People Got To Be Free" stuck in my head. The version from the Xena musical. Sometimes, I really do love my subconscious for giving me just what I need, when even I'm not sure what that is. I do know now, though, that my needs involve closing RH142 and 006, reading some essays while Marshall finishes her work, and curling up with her the second I can. Should be a soft, warm ending to an exhausting day. Will report tomorrow. Goodnight, lovers!
It started out rough, which is pretty usual, by this point. In spite of some bad dreams, I made it to Poetics of Perception for the first time in ages, and we workshopped villanelles, and it was not the most thrilling time ever, but we went over Joanna's, which was really incredible, and I talked to her for a while after class and it was really affirming. Went back to wake Marshall, and cried a whole lot, for reasons I can't actually remember very well now. Lunch with my favorite people helped, and so did watching Pecker with Jeff and talking about Bengal cats and Fern Gully music and furries while watching Asheville's public bulletin channel. I think that Jeff and I are in line on a lot of things right now, feeling all hectic and out-of-place, and it was so good to see him again and to spend all that time laughing. Dinner was a chance to continue the hysterics, revisiting our television sitcom story and talking about mean kids we knew way-back-when. We loitered outside, and then Marshall called and asked me to meet her in the parking lot before work.
She brought me this sweet potted orchid, 'cause it's our five months, and we took it up to my room and lay in bed, listening to boyband music, 'til I was pretty late for work. I'm going over there in ten minutes, if these fuckers ever leave the labs, and that's going to be good. She's good, better than I expected, somehow, and so is what we've got. I figured it'd just be something fun, and I'd fall in love but stop short of ever saying so where she could hear me, and we'd be like friends who spent nights together and, I don't know, giggle a lot? When instead, our subconsciouses are starting to scare us a little, and I'm all shaken-up and hopeful and sometimes pass entire hours without ever wondering how I'm going to fuck this up. Way to be a serial monogamist, Jen. The plan was to stay single, to have fun, to not fall again 'til I'd uncluttered myself a bit. But this is fun, and it's nice to say yes, sometimes, and to be able to ask for what I want, hard as that still seems, and to wake up to something even better than my best dreams have been. So, five months. Who saw that coming?
I have "People Got To Be Free" stuck in my head. The version from the Xena musical. Sometimes, I really do love my subconscious for giving me just what I need, when even I'm not sure what that is. I do know now, though, that my needs involve closing RH142 and 006, reading some essays while Marshall finishes her work, and curling up with her the second I can. Should be a soft, warm ending to an exhausting day. Will report tomorrow. Goodnight, lovers!
1 comment:
that really was an amazing afternoon! i had so much fun. and yes, i do believe we are in similar situations in some ways, and if there's anything you need, let me know. i will be laughing about the furry stuff and the "you have a bengal" thing for a long time. let's try to make time for this kind of thing when we can to keep things light. i will see you at lunch. much love.
Post a Comment