Transpiring Thoughts In Progress
Dec. 18th, 2001 10:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
neversremedy8Sera needs to post more to her journal, ::winks:: and I'm looking forward to our little Christmas gathering.
Trying not to lose my mind thinking about Ana in daycare, she cried and wailed, reaching out for me when I left her there. I'm thinking about keeping her there for a full day, so she doesn't expect me to pick her up early tomorrow. Maybe it's better that way. I'm required to search for work 30 hours a week, and here I am at the library, looking for work online. (Qwest DSL is screwing up at the WorkFirst office, joy!)
I feel myself being propelled toward the next phase of my progress, to the next major hurdles that lie in waiting for me to attempt to jump over them. I hope I don't trip... I can't use the word "hope" anymore without a pained thought of Sera, and her new Primary, Hope. No, I'm not jealous, not in anyway I see jealousy, but I am envious of the time and attention she is able to claim from Sera, the security... the bragging rights.
I hate to admit it, but Sera and I really did need our time of separation, just as much as we now need to take things slowly right now, to grow, to mature, to reach personal goals before we're ready to reunite in a more dedicated way. Love, adoration, caring, we have those between us. But we both have old patterns to do away with and new foundations to build (yay for 2002, year of the Horse! can't wait until Feb. 2nd). It will all work out for the best in the end, even in the interim it isn't so bad. Still, I don't like to wait, and if I *just* wait, our goals will never be achieved, the destination I can see in the distance will never arrive unless we're both doing what we must in order to get there.
I continue to write, though much of the "damned book" is being placed on the backburner. I'm writing some scenes which are necessary, but I can no longer continue to write it from start to finish knowing my mistakes across the last eight months. It wouldn't bother me if I had a computer, I could just go into the file, rearrange the text and fix the continuity, but I can't do that in a notebook. So I write little scenes, full of resentment for all the months wasted in writing it out of order, confused, missing important turning points. ::Sighs:: This too shall pass.
I wrote my Christmas letter, though most of those I mail will arrive late (thanks, JCPenney portrait studio!), I'm handing out those that I can on Christmas Eve and Christmas to save on postage and grief. Perhaps now I should look for those jobs, eh? ::smirks:: See? This is me looking for jobs...
"Back in the days when Phil Colins had... Well, no, Phil Colins never had hair."
-96.5, the Point advert.
Trying not to lose my mind thinking about Ana in daycare, she cried and wailed, reaching out for me when I left her there. I'm thinking about keeping her there for a full day, so she doesn't expect me to pick her up early tomorrow. Maybe it's better that way. I'm required to search for work 30 hours a week, and here I am at the library, looking for work online. (Qwest DSL is screwing up at the WorkFirst office, joy!)
I feel myself being propelled toward the next phase of my progress, to the next major hurdles that lie in waiting for me to attempt to jump over them. I hope I don't trip... I can't use the word "hope" anymore without a pained thought of Sera, and her new Primary, Hope. No, I'm not jealous, not in anyway I see jealousy, but I am envious of the time and attention she is able to claim from Sera, the security... the bragging rights.
I hate to admit it, but Sera and I really did need our time of separation, just as much as we now need to take things slowly right now, to grow, to mature, to reach personal goals before we're ready to reunite in a more dedicated way. Love, adoration, caring, we have those between us. But we both have old patterns to do away with and new foundations to build (yay for 2002, year of the Horse! can't wait until Feb. 2nd). It will all work out for the best in the end, even in the interim it isn't so bad. Still, I don't like to wait, and if I *just* wait, our goals will never be achieved, the destination I can see in the distance will never arrive unless we're both doing what we must in order to get there.
I continue to write, though much of the "damned book" is being placed on the backburner. I'm writing some scenes which are necessary, but I can no longer continue to write it from start to finish knowing my mistakes across the last eight months. It wouldn't bother me if I had a computer, I could just go into the file, rearrange the text and fix the continuity, but I can't do that in a notebook. So I write little scenes, full of resentment for all the months wasted in writing it out of order, confused, missing important turning points. ::Sighs:: This too shall pass.
I wrote my Christmas letter, though most of those I mail will arrive late (thanks, JCPenney portrait studio!), I'm handing out those that I can on Christmas Eve and Christmas to save on postage and grief. Perhaps now I should look for those jobs, eh? ::smirks:: See? This is me looking for jobs...
"Back in the days when Phil Colins had... Well, no, Phil Colins never had hair."
-96.5, the Point advert.
