6202

Note from L. She arrived smoothly and is eating, walking and lounging in the sauna (not all at the same time). She'll be on the move a lot during the next week, heading for the get together scheduled for next weekend.

I got up early this morning and took Cody for an early walk. It was quiet and peaceful. We encountered no other dogs, which for me was less stressful, but for Cody probably not all that exciting. I'm oscillating between catatonia and high anxiety. So much coming together, coming into focus around my feeling weird and so on.

Haven't remembered a dream since I've been at L's place. Getting up at 5:45AM didn't help, but I didn't recall any dream fragments as I awoke. Watched the tube last night and that may have preempted dream remembrance.

Was listening to an author (McCall???) on NPR today. He's quite prolific and has written in several different areas--fiction, poetry, non-fiction, etc. I was moving about and didn't get to hear the full interview. Wanted to hear the "secret" of such proclivity. Like the show I watched yesterday on PBS about Maya Lin, the woman who designed the Vietnam War Memorial (and several other major installations). The simplicity, the clarity, was impressive.

I know I have to find my own "secret,", my own way through the maze. But, I feel weighed down by circumstance and situation. I feel overwhelmed by the negative side of ledgers. I feel that I'm starting late and will never be able to overcome that lateness. Sometimes. I also feel that I have almost no choice. Need to get on with it. The minutes tick away and time passes no matter what I do or do not do.

I went back to my room to pick up some items. The place already seems strange and unfamiliar. Only a few days from having lived there and now it seems like another setting. Having my laptop die on me was not something I wanted to deal with during my dislocation from there to here, from my cave to L's place.

I am having to make do and will need to shell out important bucks to reclaim the tool, but I dread going through that hoop.

I keep envisioning me incrementing my way through a stabilization process, one that ends up with me feeling safe, good about where I live, with everything set up so I can be productive and efficient, creative and prolific. I envision a place/time/set up where I am not dealing with incremental, continuous, back-to-back breakdowns (of all sizes and dimensions)--like I've been doing for the past year, perhaps for all of my life.

As I was shaving this morning, I noticed that my face and forehead are scrofulous--scaly and flaky. Something in my diet still not right. Up close, I look like an untouchable. I look like I am covered with the scruffy stuff on a newborn--I wish. Cebum, I believe it's called. Anyway, my skin looks like I just popped out--perhaps a recapitulation--again, I wish.

Didn't win the lottery. No one won. So the groove rolls on. The state's about to start an even bigger Power Ball-style offering. Let the good times troll.

My back is killing me sitting in L's cobbled-together work station. Good place to end this undirected dither. Time to read. Back to Munro and Oates--steady rowing.