February 20th, 2002

pencil

paradoxically

I miss Lisa (hi Lisa!) but I know more about what's going on (from her journal) than when we lived in the same town. On further reflection part of that was her trainer job keeping her in travel status so much, though.

I want to take a dance class (not pairs dancing; something like belly dance or I guess 'modern' dance) but I'm horrible with structure - the minute I have a regular schedule to keep it seems restrictive and burdensome. Even getting to work at the same time every day seems oppressive. I manage to get around that by varying which bus I catch - there are three between 7:00 a.m. and 7:30 a.m., any of which will get me downtown in time to get my coffee and be at my desk before my official 8:00 a.m. starting gun. But the instant I dedicate, say, Tuesday evenings to a class (or a game, or a work-out, or whatever) a zillion other better-seeming offers appear.
I used to be so good at being reliable. Now I'm only as reliable as pays off - and for all it's one of those qualities vaunted by want-ad writers, the pay-off is remarkably minor. I'm kind of frightened at the amount of slack for flakiness that seems to be built into the system. That or I really am odiously reliable, so damn reliable that even at my most flaky I'm pretty damn stolid.

I miss Sharkins, too (while I'm missing people by name). Lisa and Sharkins and I should form our own Axis of Evil, seeing as we're all single and therefore obviously have nothing better to do...

[and just think. You only get to see these mental processes from the *outside*...]
  • Current Mood
    lonely lonely
pencil

a bad morning

This morning on the way to work I found a cat dead in the parking lot of the church on 23rd between Pike and Union. I was the second person to phone Animal Control.

The worst part was it had been strangled. Visual inspection didn't allow me to tell exactly what had happened, but it was too clean to have been struck by a vehicle. Its eyes were protruding and its mouth was open.

It made me profoundly disturbed, it made me cry, it made me furious that someone would do such a thing. Whoever they are, I hope they suffer slow dreams of suffocation and endless panic thrice akin to what they caused. Cruelty to animals is cowardly, despicable and wrong - this sort of thing is exactly what makes me feel humans are a foul and pointless pox upon this planet.

A cat, at least, gives pleasure by its mere presence, walking in grace and beauty. What foulness spawned the 'agency' to mar that grace? What is the point of keeping an eye on the sparrows if all that's done is watch them fall?

Yet another reason why you don't have to ask me why I hate humans.
  • Current Mood
    infuriated infuriated
pencil

Mystery solved

Finally hooked up with Landlord Dwight. He came by this evening and we had our chat - sure enough, it was just about my giving notice.

He wanted to know why, and was hoping he could dissuade me. So we talked for a bit, but my mind is made up. I sort of had to laugh - he reminded me that I hate moving, and that it would be a huge chore. Yup, I do hate moving, and it will be a huge chore. But it's time to go - and that's pretty much that. I don't need two bedrooms, as nice as it has been to sprawl all out; I'm not using the space efficiently anyway. I don't want a roommate; I do want some verifiably grounded outlets.

I'm also jazzed about the place I've put the deposit down on - not only is it a cute studio, but the building has a pool and an exercise room as well. Quel posh. The location is such that I can walk to work if I feel like it, or take the bus if I don't. I really liked the manager, as well.

Plus it's far, far less likely that Xiombarg will slip out and get away from me if I'm back in an apartment building. I wouldn't have said that was as important as it seems now if you'd asked me yesterday...
  • Current Music
    the Cure - Fire in Cairo