October 31, 2002


I feel very restless today.
Can't-sit-still sort of restless.
Wherever I am, I'm bored and want to be somewhere else.
I don't get like this often but it's here now.

I'm home alone, getting a moderate amount accomplished - by my standards - and I'd go out but I can't think of anywhere I'd want to go.

The malls don't interest me unless there's something specific I need.
Something that's able to be purchased, that is.
There's a lot that I need that they don't have in the mall but that's another entry, maybesomeday.

It's cold and dreary out so I'm not tempted to go for a walk.

If I were to go anywhere I'd go job-hunting but I'm STILL waiting on the Big Canadian Bank.
Yesterday the Manager told me my references hadn't all replied, and she was supposed to get back to me to tell me which one(s) to contact, but she hasn't.
I'm not sure if that's good news or not.

Considering she wants to hire me and considering that we're friends, I don't feel right about continuing to job-hunt until the bank gives me a decision. Besides, job-hunting when you don't know if you can take a job is sort of like shopping in the United States when the currency exchange is high.
Extremely frustrating.

I tell myself there's really no rush to start working, that we're not starving or anything, and a month or two one way or the other won't make any difference, but once I make up my mind to do something, I want to DO it.

I have no patience, never did. Not for something I really want.

I want an income of my own.
I want to feel more financially secure, in view of the prospect of an asset split somewhere down the road, between the Housemate and me.
I'm starting to envision what my own place might be like.
Probably a small apartment, either a rental or a condominium.
For the very first time in my entire life, I've given a thought to - shudder - home decoration.
Not the home I'm in, but my imaginary future home.
It's not much of a thought but it's quite the new experience for me.
I gladly went along with whatever then-Hubby liked unless it was truly awful, for each of the three homes we had.
I really just didn't care. As long as it was comfortable and not butt-ugly, it was fine.

I know I'm doing this ass-backwards. You're supposed to assert your independence as a young adult, not a middle-aged matron.
As a young adult, I wasn't so interested in independence as in love and marriage.

So, I'm a late bloomer. Maybe I'll start dressing like a hippie and attending poetry readings.

Whatever I do, it won't be nearly as flamboyant as one of my step-sisters, who, when she left her husband, ran all the way to Bangladesh for awhile, went vegan, eventually came back and took up with a woman, and had her entire rear end and thigh intricately tattooed, all before settling down with a nice (male) doctor in Connecticut.

That's one bar I don't think I could raise if I wanted to!

Linque Du Jour:   Speaking of Poetry...
Me? Poetry?

Until a few days ago, I did not DO poetry.
That is, until Rob begged for help with his English assignment.
He couldn't make any sense of the poems in this book.
(Make sure you scroll down that linked page for an excerpt!)

They not only made sense to me, they only grazed my brain on their way down to my soul.
There are a couple more examples here.
I especially like the one entitled "Risk".
And a short bio of the author here.

(The reason I'm being coy about her name is because I don't want to be googled by Rob's classmates searching for information on her. For some reason, Google just LOVES me!)

One more thing - because I can, and I feel like it:

One year ago today:
The Day Before November 1

Two years ago (almost) today:
Oversize Carrots and the Night Sky

Three years ago today:

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