(no subject)

Sweet Saturday morning, sleeping in, windows open with no worry of roofers ascending just outside, no fumes from the tar pot billowing in noxious clouds up. I have a bit of Christine's cornbread with my tea -- her corn bread is delicious and tender and -- yes, sweet. Yankee cornbread is what i was raised to call it. Would i rather she made cornbread like my mother? Um, ....

i can haz fifth?

Christine took care of the cats, made the tea and is now back asleep beside me. Tomorrow she will be at the airport on her way to a conference. A week from now, my sister will be here and she and i will no doubt be chattering away, some where, some how.

With the clarity that comes from working with my therapist, and reflection the rest of this week, i think i can now articulate just which work dysfunction is the one that is so damaging. It's good to know with more precision where the poison is. Any place that makes you feel like Cassandra, where you are trying to warn of danger and "no one" is listening, is damaging.

So i can name the poison, why it's poisonous, why it's unreasonable. Perhaps i can build up some barriers, perhaps i will be able to name for myself, "Ah, that's the Cassandra Poison at work," and rebuild my self esteem and confidence.

And i do recognize there are barriers to the poison: i was able to enjoy the "Palo Alto Moonlight Walk" last night with a retired colleague, watching the lightning begin far across the bay and enjoying the waxing moon high in the twilit sky. By the time i was home, the lightning storm had crossed the bay and arrived. We went out to sit on the deck and watch and then big fat wet raindrops began an occasional splat. We retreated, and the rain came down for a few more moments, the ozone scent and the summer-rain coolness so memorable and strange. It is not a common Bay Area weather event. We heard a child screaming and screaming, and a raised parental voice: i wondered whether the lightning and thunder was the cause, while Christine surmised the child found itself alone and had been surprised.

Of all the feline reactions to the weather, most entertaining was Greycie Loo when a scattering of hail hit the deck. She rushed over to the deck door, like the black and white police cruiser she resembles. "Hey! Who's doing that? Who's throwing stuff on that deck? Cut it out!" At alert and indignant, she listened for the culprit.

I think i need to write a resume for Evernote today.

I suppose it's a task to timebox and get out the door. Just Do It.