September 7th, 10:48 | Thoughts from the sick-couch

Well, I got my ducks in a pile and lo, it is growing. This sentence, of course, makes more sense if you're told that said ducks are on little squares of cloth that I plan on patch-sewing together into a pillowcase for my Leafs body pillow because honestly? I can't stand having that thing on my bed without the blue covered up. When did I become so bigoted?

In other news, is anyone else reeling from the fact that, hi, it's September already? This has made me panic, of all things, because it means that...

1 - November approacheth. For those of you not in the know, that means NaNoWriMo. This is my fourth year running, and goddamnit, I'm going to succeed this year. This year's novel's working title? Dude, the Fries Are Done.
2 - Christmas approacheth. Should this be a big deal? I mean it's still 3 months away right? It's a worrying amount of time for someone who is notoriously bad with her last-minute shopping, and who has crafts ideas for a lot of her gifts, hasn't done them yet, and knows she'll get nothing done in November. *cue dramatic music here*
3 - October approacheth. This is relevant because in a moment of insanity earlier this year, I signed myself up for a breast cancer fund-raising run and determined that this year I would actually try to raise money for said run.
4 - It's my mom's birthday. This has actually already passed, and was a lot of fun; very relaxing. I feel like a bad daughter since all of the "doing stuff" gifts I planned were all shot down, and I didn't get her any "stuff" gifts. She seemed happy to have me around for the long weekend though, so I guess that's something.

In work related news, today marks my two-year anniversary of being a Workplace drone. It also scares me because I have a little over a quarter left to achieve my challenges for the year, and I've been a slacker. That's all incidental though. Mostly it's a weird thought that's it's only 2 years.

Two years isn't such a long time is it? It's the difference between graduating with a Bachelor's and getting your Master's degree (or so I hear). It's the time between grade 4 and grade 6. It's half of highschool, for most people; it's the time it takes a baby to go from larval to precocious.

Two years doesn't seem like a long time when you write it out in terms of a year. Two dragonboat seasons, two ultimate seasons, two Christmas parties, two formal evaluations, two students trained. Write it out in terms of months, days, events, and it seems longer. If I think about the days too much, it seems huge, and I wonder what the hell I've been doing with my time; why haven't I accomplished anything? Heavy thoughts for a sick Thursday morning.

Yes, I'm sick. Luckily I clairvoyantly bought a can of apple juice earlier in the week, and we live close to Chinatown, home of the Marmalade Goo. (If you don't know this stuff, it's like citrus bits suspended in honey. It's made somewhere in Korea and it's the best thing ever for sore throats.)

So I'm sitting on the futon (even though the wireless is working again) enjoying the sunshine and thinking that even if my career is in a disastrous state (mostly due to the fact that I have no idea what I want), things aren't so bad. Right?

Last book read:

( prev ++ 0 comment/s ++ next )

prev ++ next
(or "today"'s)