today mostly felt like being pulled apart by wild horses, which is an awful metaphor and therefore a perfect fit. sometimes only ugly awkward words work.
my poor hungry houseguests have been exceptionally tolerant of the conditions here; they are huddled on the one couch while i annoy them with my insomnia, i can’t think of a way to convince them to stay another day, and the way this feels tells me i really need more interaction with people in actual reality. but wishing they’d stay makes hardly any sense, considering tomorrow is already not mine, and i could not take it back if i tried, and i have not made peace with that concept, not one little bit.
it’s the way the world works, it either offers up unwanted frighteningly unfilled hours in vast quantities, or it demands your presence in three places before noon, none negotiable. the scheduling involves having nowhere near enough time for some things and much too much for others, and the chances i’ll manage everything in a satisfactory fashion: none. can’t be done. pessimist? not at all. there are conflicting things, things which would not accept any answer but yes; therefore the best i can hope to accomplish is adequate damage contol. success is not an option! however my expertise in the area of failure will serve me well. do it with grace and it makes what didn’t get done much less appealing. it’s about style and proper form and a firm, solid stroke. it’s the spin and the way you use the wind. it’s in the wrist, mostly, the rest you improvise.
i suppose i should mention timing, but that’s about all i’ll do about it, for now.
why yes, i’m picking the fuck out of my hair right now, how’d you know?