Just a few years ago I didn’t even have a “to do” list. Now I have so many bullshit little tiny details to take care of on a daily basis that I need one; multiple, in fact. My life is eaten away by the tiny bullshit details. Part of me hates it, and part of me understands that this whole delicate, crystalline structure of a life I’ve created is what I wanted, and the tiny bullshit details are the necessary evil that keeps the whole damned thing glued together. The inordinate amount of my time it takes to deal with it all every day is damned annoying, though.
At some point you just realize that it’s all relative, I guess. Without all of this I’d no doubt still be whining; complaining that it was too quiet and lonely and the environment was in some way inadequate. I’m a complainer.
Random factoid: The Anglo-Saxons called the native Britons ‘Wielisc’ or ‘foreigner.’ Which is interesting because the AS were actually the foreigners, technically speaking. Eventually it became our word Welsh. What was left of them was driven into Wales, Cornwall, and Southern Scotland. I have sort of a nineteenth century romantic fascination with them, I’ll admit. Though maybe they were never wiped out at all.
Maybe I’ll try to learn Gaelic when I get out of prison.
Cold again. Winter is come early this year. This doesn’t bother me terribly; for us it’s more of a long autumn. The land is beautiful as it falls asleep. What I end up hating is late January, most of February. From my point of view winter should end after Christmas. I’m almost insane by the time March comes around every year.
Don’t feel like writing. Anything. This is what graduate school does to your soul.