as he studies for his upcoming final, i vascillate between dying my hair lavender and cyan. this buttons up the difference between us nicely: i never want to go to school, never, ever again; he goes to school as one might go to church, regularly, for the promise of answers and worldly advancement.

i prefer having a five year financial plan.

the mosquitoes have left reminders on my legs that i hate them wherever i am.

husband had me do the grocery run alone. it returned me to living in nm, when i made decisions with abandon and my whim was upheld as law. i missed it, briefly, as i carefully jettisoned from one end of town to the other, burdened with foodstuffs but not conscience. hurry, hurry, hurry! lest that auction end in the time i overspent.

i have stopped caring quite a bit. that sounded grim when it should have been glorious. rephrase: i have stopped caring about quite a bit of shit that does me no good. like dumping a bad boyfriend, knowledge that such things are irrelevant (to me!) frees me to have more productive time-consumers. though i expect that these upcoming few years will actually be closer to fallow than productive.

i read the next whipped-creamy installment in bujold. i'm hopeful that with the third, the story will actually develop all those tidbits she's littered throughout pages of unapologetic romantic fantasy. (strange, that made it sound exotic and enjoyable...) but if i am honest with myself, every book i've read of hers has gotten less compelling--i suppose that's a natural consequence of starting with one of her most lauded books? i should just skip back to her space operas.

i bought almond butter without salt & i am afraid i will hate it.

i don't know what to wear to work. i put together ensembles, but often they involve shit i intend to buy, not what i have bought. fatuous me.