Dear Diary . . . day by day

Mail is welcome: gryffyn@there.net

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Wednesday November 15th - A Time To . . .
Burning Man
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2000
I have no time any more. This shouldn't be a shock, since I'm working again, but it's frustrating. For one thing, the counselor I keep leaving messages for keeps leaving me messages during the day that say, "Tell me when a good time is to call you back." I can only give her times after 7pm, since that's when I get home from the gym. I'm pretty sure she only calls/works during the day and I can't give her my number at my temp job. I mean, yes I have my own extension but it's not like I have anything resembling privacy in that cubicle. I'm not sure how we're going to resolve this; I think my next message will ask her to just leave the names and numbers of counselors who work in the evenings on my machine.

I discovered that the Oakland Museum is only a block and a half from where I work now! I wandered onto their grounds during my lunch yesterday, and found this lovely green oasis in the midst of downtown Oakland. Lots of funky art sculptures interspersed between pine trees and succulent bushes with large windows from the museum rising here and there - very cool. I could see Lake Merritt just on the other side of the grounds. I need to remeber to bring my lunch so I can go hang out there the whole lunch; it's a little chilly right now, but the grounds seem to be blocked from the wind at least, so when the sun is out, it's tolerable.

I wish I had time to write! I have so many ideas - and jotting them down just seems to confirm that they'll never see the light of day. I spend my days working on a (very slow) PC, I go to the gym, I come home and eat and I've got about 2 hours before I have to go to bed. Not that I make it to bed by 10pm or anything reasonable like that. I'm already running a weekday sleep deficet.

I actually have social stuff planned for my weekend! This was as of last night - I have something to do Thurs-Sun nights! Let's see, the ballet, two parties, the Simpsons . . . I'm very happy about this, don't get me wrong, but I am starting to look a lot more protectively at my time. When am I ever going to get a chance to write?

Oh, who am I kidding? Last week I had all day every day and I got very little writing done then. I'm probably upping my chances of writing now that I have to eek out some time to do it in. Maybe I'll forgo these journal entries and work first thing in the morning . . . get up early - naw. What if I was on a roll? I'd have to quit to go to work, and that would be torturous . . .

Exercise log:

Yoga class last night.


Writing log:

The Many Masks of Halloween in Strange Horizons.


I'm currently reading:

Born with the Dead by Robert Silverberg

Woman: An Intimate Geography by Natalie Angier

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