A Journal of Sorts

28 February 1999

Chicken wire

Maybe it is some hangover from the killer cold I had, but I feel draggy, physically and mentally. I don't feel that I ever woke up and I got really tired just sitting and watching Tom work. It reminded me of being depressed. Surely I'm not.

I sent out a few resumes for some technical support positions I found out on the Internet and need to remember to get a newspaper. I need to know where the job fairs are just in case I get motivated this week. I have a feeling I won't because of the garage.

We actually moved my furniture into the house! I feel like I'm moving in, finally. Now that there is some space in there, I can see all of my already-started-but-unfinished projects lying around. I know I'm going to feel guilty about the unpainted closet doors until I paint them and put them back on the closets. The guestroom looks especially tacky without the closet doors because I put most of the miscellaneous arts and crafts junk in there.

I can see all the paint I got to re-paint the house.

I have paints, beads, ropes, Popsicle sticks, dyes, clay, colored paper, yarn and yarn and yarn (and several unfinished afghans) and did I say yarn? There are clay tools, boxes of photographs, and memorabilia up on the shelf with the board games and poker chips. All sorts of sewing stuff as well as wrapping paper has found its way into that closet. It is also where I've put the boxes of stuff that used to be in my office at work and the extra bedding.

But the garage still holds my unpacked books, clothes, kitchen stuff and knick-knacks. The assorted paintings, rag dolls, prints and rubbings that used to grace the walls of my apartment are in boxes in the garage. There is gardening stuff strung from one end to the other, empty pots, bags of potting soil and seed starting junk.

We saw a sweet and funny movie with Harrison Ford and some female I don't remember seeing anywhere before. Not unusual, since I'm not much of a TV/movie person. It is called Six Days, Seven Nights or something like that. I might have the numbers confused. I happen to think Harrison Ford is really cute, even cuter when he is falling in love.

Tom is talking about tomorrow being our other stop smoking date. Last time we picked a day, it was a tossup between March 1 and February 14. We flipped a coin and came up with the 14th. We only quit for a few minutes. He got a pack of cigarettes today and it looks like he timed it to run out just before bedtime. I told him that he smoked more than his half, hoping it would bring him to his senses and he would go get another pack. Didn't work, so maybe he will stop smoking tomorrow. We really need to do that.