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Hold on to what is good even if it is a handful of earth.
Hold on to what you believe even if it is a tree which stands by itself.
Hold on to what you must do even if it is a long way from here.
Hold on to life even when it is easier letting go.
Hold on to my hand even when I have gone away from you.
- Pueblo Blessing

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Tuesday, Dec. 21, 2004 - 7:13 p.m.

Cost of the War in Iraq
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WARNING!!!! if you know me personally, you may read my diary, but if you do, you take the chance of hearing things you don't want to know, misunderstanding what I've written and being hurt by it. If you are unsure if it is ok to read, save yourself and me the grief and heartache, and ask first!!! Please note that this is a DIARY, ie my subjective feelings, hearsay, suppositions, and outpourings of ranting of the moment. It does not represent objective news, the whole of what I think of a topic or someone, or even a thought-out representation of any of the above. Keep that in mind. Thanks. * Here is a Diary Etiquette Read Me.

Time for a Holiday la la la

I think I need a holiday. That would be a break. Time off. Time away. Doing nothing. Wasting time. yes.

How can I tell?

Someone on the phone tells me their name so when I call back in two minutes I can get them again to continue the call. I hang up, I look up the info. I call back. I cannot remember her name. I did not even think to write it down. But I did repeat it after she had said it. Then it left my mind.

My feet are cold. That has nothing to do with the holiday thing. But the fact that instead of a second sentence that follows the plotline, I wrote about an immediate physical sensation, and a lowlife little small sensation at that, shows that I need a noliday.

The fact that I just wrote noliday instead of holiday and that I didn't change the spelling indicates I am washed out.

The fact that I have no Christmas tree, and am using many excuses to not get one (it will take up space where I need to put the massage table, I'll have to get out the extension cords for the lights, I will have to get out the lights, it is too cold today it will be warmer tomorrow) is another piece of evidence. I love getting the christmas tree. Maybe it will be a small wreathe year.

The fact that I feel totally intellectually unstimulated by all intellectually stimulating things I read on the internet... that is good evidence. My brain seems not to give a damn.

My body also does not give a damn. I haven't been to the gym on my yearly unlimited pass more than twice since October. That is not so good. But my body feels quite fine with that, though my mind nags lacklusterly and with no real enthusiasm from time to time. No orders are given to the body to put gymclothes into a bag and hoof it down to the gym. And none seem to be in order before the new year.

I am fighting urges to shove all piles of paperwork in sight into a wheelbarrow and shove them off a cliff. Good thing I have neither a wheelbarrow nor a cliff.

I have no funny interesting ideas for my comics. Singularly uninspired. But that doesn't matter. Where there is a deadline there is a way. I shall get my sorry butt down to the coffeeshop within the next fifteen minutes (once I have put on less damp, warmer socks) to draw another two page of comics. Unfortunately the coffeeshop, which used to have the best coffee in the neighborhood, no longer has the best coffee. The best coffee is at the cafe which closes at 8pm .That is too soon to do even one page of comics, so the best coffee will be nixed in interest of having more time.

I hope my doggy is ok. They said the operation went well, and I can pick her up tomorrow. I asked they not feed her (it would be different food and we risk another diahhrea bout) so I feel rather guilty, and have gotten a car, albeit across town, to pick her up in the early afternoon tomorrow instead of the evening, so she may eat. Dang.

I am not looking forward to getting out of the house for 12:30 in the afternoon to pick up a starving operated doggy... I want to be asleep at that time. That is more evidence that I need a holiday. I should be gung ho to get the poor sweety.

well, that is it. Mostly it is the braindeadedness... the lack of ability to put anything at all into my short term memory and retrieve it.

Oh well, dang.

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previous meanderings - future past

Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Taking Care of Your Cows - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Saint Joseph robs the cradle and eats spaghetti - Sunday, Jun. 14, 2009
sticky notes and broken irises - Friday, Jun. 12, 2009
The FOODCOMMANDER - Monday, Jun. 08, 2009


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