pedablogical

wow. it’s been over three whole hours since i found an excuse
to do this instead of doing something else. A-M-A-Z-I-N-G!

wrote the report on the fascinating broken links. checked all the pdfs
on the site for the logo, and added
lots of cute graphics to the latest lessons (my favorite is the goose
on the Mother
Goose lesson. i mean, how could you not like a goose? well, actually,
now that i think of it, you could not like a goose. when
my younger brother was three, my grandmother had some geese penned up
behind the barn and when no one was watching, Noel was apparently doing
some animal behavior study. he came running, crying loudly, but wouldn’t
tell us what was wrong. when we finally calmed him down, he tells us,
"goose bite my finger." i guess in these instances, one might
have good reason not to like a goose. but really, a little goose never
hurt anyone.)

hmm, eric has written that he’s reading this. hmm. i fear that he stands
before his computer in the Dwight
D. Eisenhower Statuary Stance (TM) scowling. he’s probably just getting
jealous of rich though. as soon as i return to writing about him, he’ll
be ok.

oops. my officemate just asked what i’m working on "because you’re
typing like a mad woman," she says. um. guess that’s a sign to get
back to work, before she finds out what i’m really working on.

ok, so now i’m procrastinating at work. i just got done fixing all the broken links that i’m responsible for at readwritethink. now i have to write the report that says i’ve done it. rich called a little bit ago to talk about blogging and gravel and stuff.

finally slept. have been working on laundry, unpacking, cleaning. wrote to rich this morning about quoting from his email. i’m not sure what i’m writing here. personal ramblings. maybe they don’t belong online. of course, that’s why i want to dig into what rich is saying, details at blogger, and so on. but for now, i need to get back to unpacking and such.

i wonder if people who can sleep through the night appreciate how lucky they are. you really have to go through the endless nights of waking up every two or three hours. and the long gaps spent trying to fall asleep. trying to situate your arms and hands and legs so that they won’t creep into uncomfortable positions and wake you any sooner than you’ll already waken.

so this time i’m out of bed, i unpacked some more stuff, the candles essentially. they’re in the bottom of the china cabinet. now if i could only get the china unpacked from the boxes it moved here in three years ago. i must have the slowest progress of anyone i know. though if you count the fact that i get out of bed every two or three hours and unpack something perhaps you can say i’m at least persistent.

i feel almost like macbeth. just without the guilt of murdering folks. i have plenty of guilt–that chapter promised to mday that will likely never materialize, book proposals promised to pete, unwritten letters, unwashed clothes, undone to-dos. i’m just not murdering folks. i’ll go back to bed, and tasks i can’t even think of now will begin marching through my head, telling me how simple they would be to write, to accomplish. i do a thousand things in those moments when i’m not asleep, lying there in the bed and make plans to do a thousand more. so simple they seem and yet when i get up, as hard to accomplish as sleep is to find.