Am I going to making mincing steps through life without committing to anything? Always I have said, I'm just here waiting for the next thing. Or, when I was in high school, because I had to be, but my mind was in a "better" place, college, but I learned quickly I couldn't settle my mind there either so lived in my future job.

Here I am in, I guess, my fourth job. In one sense I would have been pleased I managed to be hired by four different people. Part of me asks for very, very little in life. And then the other part of me asks for so incredibly much.

Labels: treo photos

Labels: Bible verses

This weekend has been full of the unexpected. We saw four houses Friday evening after work in an incredible heat wave. The first two were pretty fascinating. We started putting together an offer on the first house with our realtor this weekend. This morning I checked my email, and the seller dropped the price on the farm house so that we could afford it with our mortgage. We accepted the offer. So the farm house I described back in April, well, that's probably going to be our home. I won't believe it until we're moved in, and I'm not talking about it till it's a done deal. But I did start back embroidering my curtains today, and I felt a deep brooding happiness over it all. For the most part though I'm done with feelings for a home. It's really not wise, especially the way mortgages are going these days.

Another big surprise was that I contracted poison ivy from one of our woodland jaunts, and it has spread like wildfire over my body. I have never had poison ivy this extensively in my life, and it has been over ten years since I had it at all. Wildfire is the best description for it. My skin is flaming all over. Nathan has caught it now, but he doesn't itch. I have calamine lotion all over, but nothing stops the inflammation, and it keeps spreading. I am thinking of taking the day off tomorrow, because when I have to wear anything on my legs it's excruciating and spreads more. Last week I actually prayed I would get sick so I wouldn't have to go to work. But I am suffering right now. My nerves are throbbing all over. I scratched in my sleep last night like a madwoman and woke myself up with raw and swollen pox all over. I had to reapply the lotion at 3 a.m. Tonight I am already feeling worse.

Complaining makes me feel better.

Labels: treo photos

Tonight I did a little more than I thought I could. I always think that if I could just get organized I would be able to sit myself right down after a day's work, pick up some sewing work and go after it, but maybe that's a perfect world.

I planned meals for the weekend, bought groceries and set my sauerbraten to marinate. It will have to marinate two days since the recipe specified at least 24 hours and I will not be home until late evening tomorrow.

I wish I had written out my Black Dahlia dream earlier. I could remember it better then. I woke at about midnight with my blood running cold. I got up and checked all the locks and even looked out the window. I don't really understand what scared me so much, because I wasn't in danger in the dream.

Some murder details follow.

In my dream we lived in a dorm, one of those with covered walkways between buildings, and the exterior walls that look like they've been laid in glue, then laid in some rocks. The areas on either side of the walkway were filled in with pebbles, and on my way through the glass doors I was wont to look at beautiful objects I found within the pebbles each day. In particular I gazed at some amethyst-colored glass marbles.

Then one day I learned that the Black Dahlia had been murdered in my dorm/home, and her limbs were partially buried in the pebbles on either side of the exterior walkway, and they looked like alabaster pieces. The beautiful marbles I noticed every day were actually her eyes.

This filled me with numbing horror.

In reality an actress in 1940's Hollywood was murdered by a surgeon acquaintance who disconnected her limbs, drained them of blood, and cleaned and polished them so meticulously that a woman pushing a baby carriage down the street saw them standing upright in an overgrown field and thought they were pieces of a mannequin.

For me when I read the story I felt a vicarious horror at the woman who discovered the body. To see something strange and artistic, like a Salvador Dali painting, and then realize it's the work of a murderer, that you are looking at a corpse.

The actress was given the name Black Dahlia in hype surrounding her death and partially-unsolved murder, due I think to her pallor and black hair which gave her a gothic look.

Anyway, I was surprised Gothic Beauty didn't actually describe the murder, since I doubt most people know the story.

To me it sort of relates to my search for beauty, my reaching out and then being stunned or deeply disillusioned, as far as the dream. The dorm is one of the ultimate visions I can conceive of a standard-issue no-frills building, and I think I felt betrayed because when I finally found something beautiful in my dull environment it turned out to be deeply profane.

When I woke I felt the presence of God. Through the mist of my fear I felt a strange and stern guidance, perhaps even a rebuke.

I don't really know what God may be trying to tell me. He needs to know that I can't be force-fed other peoples' beliefs, theories, churches. He needs to know I can't blindly go along. I want to be his sheep, but not the sheep of other humans. I haven't been reading my Bible or making time for meditation. I feel guilty about it, and I can't find God through my guilt. I have felt very frustrated about that. If I stop altogether my study and prayer I stop my relationship with God; however I don't want God to become a routine or something I feel guilty about skipping. This is a huge struggle for me, and the more I hear what other people think and do with God, the worse it becomes.

Labels: dreams

Then I cried out upon him: Cease,
Leave me in peace:
Fear not that I should crave
Aught thou mayst have.
Leave me in peace, yea trouble me no more,
Lest I arise and chase thee from my door.
What, shall I not be let
Alone, that thou dost vex me yet?

But all night long that voice spake urgently:
'Open to Me'
Still harping in mine ears:
'Rise, let Me in.'

Labels: quote

Last night I had a dream that scared me so deeply. It was basically surrounding the murder of the Black Dahlia. There was an article in my last Gothic Beauty of a Black Dahlia movie which had stuck in my mind as being of poor quality. I was particularly struck by the fact that it never explained much about the Black Dahlia, though perhaps she's a gothic staple. Since I gave up on submitting a resume to Gothic Beauty I think the article stuck in my mind for whatever reason, and I did end up having a dream about the Black Dahlia, and the amount of information I do have about her murder. I will have to explain that, and also the other thing that inspired the dream, in another post. It will be violent, and I will warn before I write. I'm tired of having a G-rated journal any longer, but I will be responsible for it.

I also want to mention before I have to go that this is the second time I have felt God when I woke up. It's not a very good feeling. It's a strange feeling. I want to talk about this and the other dream more in depth.

Well, this was basically a post about what I need to post about.

Labels: dreams

What if the square were sleepy, nearly-empty. What if my daily business were calm and done with great care.

There is such a place, there are such things,

Yet here I am. And somewhere there are drowsy fields, like those I wandered through twelve years ago from the beginning of summer to its very end, grasshoppers clinging to me. Believe me, I am doing all I can to make life beautiful.

As I looked over my photos for this past year I was really surprised. I have felt like I have done nothing, but actually I have done, or at least sought, a great deal. After our weekend in Fredericksburg there are many photos of cooking and housekeeping endeavors. What would it mean to say that homemaking has become one of the most important things in my life?

That cooking or sewing are indulgences that carry no sting or leave no regret, not the barest trace?

Labels: treo photos

In the stress of the situation Cassandra was overdoing everything. She had checked her portfolio three times that morning to assure herself of its contents, and now she withdrew one of five copies with an exaggerated gesture.

Dr. Thorn tipped up her deeply-tinted glasses to look over the page, then returned them to her nose. "Two are my fellow faculty members. Very nice, Miss Eliot." She was so calm, so business-like, Cassandra's mind flew ahead to the future, imagining working with Dr. Thorn and discovering the real person, if there were one. Dr. Thorn was every bit as cold and more intimidating than Cassandra had imagined, and she was glad she had overprepared for her interview, as it had given her more confidence.

She felt a stunned reprieve when she realized Dr. Thorn was closing their interview. She shook hands with Cassandra and smiled with a limited degree of warmth. "You are a promising applicant, Miss Eliot. It has been a pleasure."

Cassandra rose as Dr. Thorn did so, bowing her head respectfully as the scientist passed her on her way to the door. Cassandra looked after her, studying the fine, elegant cut of her white suit. Before she stepped outside, Dr. Thorn swathed her black hair and pale neck with an elegant white scarf.

Cassandra didn't realize she was shaking her head in mixed amazement and dismay until the barista came to her table to clean up, at least on pretext.

"How did things go?" he asked with a curious smile.

Cassandra sank slowly back into her seat. "As well as they could go. I didn't flub up. I don't think it would have mattered if I had. Dr. Thorn is a scientist through and through, interested in evidence, not presentation."

"I thought I recognized Dr. Thorn."

"Has she interviewed other applicants here?" Cassandra asked hesitantly.

Labels: timed writing challenge

Labels: treo photos

I have to work tomorrow. I can't believe it. I am already compiling a list of things to do to counterbalance that:

- Sew striped placemat set
- Do my photo cube shoot
- Wear my Innocent World dress, at least if we go out somewhere

Labels: treo photos

Labels: treo photos

I need to be true to myself.

I do not need to put up with someone else making me uncomfortable or offering me friendship with the occasional pricking thorn.

I need to have boundaries.

I am okay with being alone for a while.

I don't bring out the best in others, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. Would it be true friendship if I never knew you took some consolation in my slight ugliness?

I would rather be alone in that case.

I'd rather read Christina Rossetti.

It is my fate to feel like I am doing something wrong when I stand up for myself. Last week I felt guilty. This week is no different. Bring it on, then. I am still standing.

Alone.

I ate Chinese food with my co-workers yesterday, and that was fun. It was good to be un-alone for a while.

My heart is so sad.

Let it be sad, then. Let me feel what is really happening to me. Let me see the world around me, and let me call it as it really is.

I would rather that than build a feeling on lies one more time. I would rather hurt and stand alone against the wind than sacrifice my self-respect for the sake of fitting somewhere.

Sometimes the only place I fit is the coffee shop, and that's okay.

I'm telling you now, and I'll say it so that everyone will know that I'm not afraid to be alone. I'm not afraid of loneliness. I'm not afraid to see things for what they are. I'm not afraid to throw off stereotypes and trappings and a facade like a heavy coat worn to rags.

Just let me tell the truth. Don't let me lie. Let me realize it, and then live it.

This is me, alone.

"Of course. And did you ever tranquilize the animals?"

"In one case, an animal had to be tranquilized. I prepared the fluid according to the doctor's instructions, but I did not tranquilize the animal."

"Have you worked with animals besides horses?"

"There were other animals admitted to the clinic, dogs and cats."

"Describe your level of experience in handling difficult animals."

Dr. Thorn's questions were so rapid-fire Cassandra barely drank her masala coffee, keeping it in a tight grip in one hand. "I am competent at handling large or difficult animals. I have a good sense about what frightens or hurts them and can minimize their stress without much restraint."

Dr. Thorn regarded Cassandra thoughtfully. With regard to appearance, Cassandra might have made an appealing protege for her. Like the doctor Cassandra was pale with dark hair. Dr. Thorn's features were more refined, however, and her coal-black eyes were inscrutable. Cassandra's eyes were the color of an overcast sky, and her face tended to look somewhat timorous.

Labels: timed writing challenge

Labels: treo photos

Daily rituals: when you create a ritual you are a poet in your own life.

• Manicuring, painting nails. This should be fun, but I can't stand doing it. I need to buy some more exciting nail accessories, like sparkling top coat, or top coat with decals.
• Bathing. I dislike the harsh overhead lighting. I'm still seeking an ambient lighting solution.
• Cleaning house. Today I put the cleaning solutions in an old gift bag, and I'm not going to keep the solutions and rags under the sink any more, because they get cruddy, and they're already gross anyway. I have some pretty purple cleaning gloves, an apron, and I need to tie my hair up for that.
• Cleaning kitchen. This would happen ideally every day, after dinner, when I don't feel like doing anything else. I would like to program in a time around 8 p.m. to get the home in order before I start getting ready for bed so that clutter doesn't accumulate every week.
• Cooking. Spending some time preparing, like putting my hair up and putting on an apron. Also lighting a food-scented candle.
• Watering plants. My method of using rusted-out tea kettles is inelegant, as is fitting them under the faucet to fill them. Water sloshing on the carpet on the way to the porch is annoying. Buying a fancy watering can right now isn't a good fit for me though.
• Sewing. How to keep my back from aching? How to do it for less than seven hours at a stretch? It sucks me in, and then I get burned out and won't finish a project.
• Syncing Treo and PSP to the computer every day. This would be a relaxing thing to come home and do after work each day. Looking over the notes I took on my Treo each day would jog my memory and creativity and help me link my daily ideas with daily production. I would like to have a pot of tea, candle, and one of my playlists handy.

Grace Notes - Chapter 1

• When you feel overwhelmed, attend to necessary task that will please you.
• Rejuvenate yourself with an art book. I.E. My Pre-Raphaelite and fairy tale books. I have put them on the bureau shelf to have them handy.
• Spray cologne in a box of stationary. I.E. Angelfire.
• Buy a small, distinctive item from a specialty store. I.E. Beautiful-colored threads or yarns.
• Line inside of closet door with art postcards. I.E. I would do this on the bathroom door, and I wouldn't limit myself to art postcards since I can scan and print whatever I want from books.
• Mark new seasons with childhood reminiscences. I.E. Spring - Easter baskets. Summer - Snow cones. Fall - Campfires. Winter - Walks in the woods.
• Hang a favorite quilt behind a sofa or love seat (I don't know about that).
• Be three minutes early for next appt. and wait calmly.
• Lift your mood with a new fragrance.
• Pinon incense from Santa Fe.
• Burn calories as you tidy up.
• Do yoga or sit ups on my mat when I'm tense.
• Take a few min to be alone every day. Take some time from work on break to recollect and take notes on creative work.
• Daydreaming helps the brain.
• Walk to appts. Exercise esp. before being confined to a conference room.
• Plan wardrobe around 2-3 colors.
• Buy a set of colored pencils, display on writing desk. I have some really good ones. I could do that.
• Make your own quotation book. I have a lovely free one on my Treo, but I don't add anything to it. I will try to make a point to to do that. It will make my reading more interactive too.
• Make a personal source guide. Order by phone or mail if possible. Computer shopping guide with links and item #s would be better, especially if I made one especially for clothes and accessories, and one for home decor.
• Keep a careful datebook, weed it out each month.
• Have a special basket for the mail.
• Insert perfume extract on phone (not sure how to do this with my Treo)

Sensuous-
Foods, corn on the cob
Sewing basket, wonderfully decorated
Life is too short for you to be caretaker of the wrong details.

Labels: reading notes

Labels: treo photos

At the other end of the room she noticed a pale, dark-haired woman she had not seen before, and her heart gave a leap. She knew by the woman's regal bearing and elegant clothing that she had a very good chance of being Dr. Thorn, Cassandra's prospective employer.

Confirming her belief, the woman looked up at Cassandra attentively for a moment, then rose. Clutching her coffee mug with both hands, Cassandra moved hastily across the room, then extended one hand in greeting. "Dr. Thorn? I'm Cassandra Eliot."

"Miss Eliot. A pleasure." Dr. Thorn shook her hand and nodded briefly, as composed and objective as Cassandra had imagined she would be.

Dr. Thorn had purchased no coffee or breakfast bun for herself. On the table before her were Cassandra's resume, a tablet, and a heavy, somewhat old-fashioned pen.

"Miss Eliot, your university records show you to be a remarkable student. You are taking somewhat general classes, as can be expected. Tell me about your experiences in your animal studies lab."

"Thank you, Dr. Thorn." While Dr. Thorn had spoken Scarlet had taken the opportunity to taste her coffee, which was delicious and enlivening.

Labels: timed writing challenge

Labels: treo photos

Barbara Cartland

2) What book do you own the most copies of?

I don't have more than one copy of anything.

3) Did it bother you that both those questions ended with prepositions?

Even though I read someone else's answers first, I still didn't notice.

4) What fictional character most fascinates you?

Quentin Compson, from The Sound and the Fury and other works by Faulkner.

5) What book have you read the most times in your life?

Gothic Tales, ed. Chris Baldick.

6) What was your favorite book when you were ten years old?

Wait till Helen Comes, by Mary Downing Hahn. I still really love it.

7) What is the worst book you've read in the past year?

The Vision of Desire, by Margaret Pedlar.

8) What is the best book you've read in the past year?

Villette, by Charlotte Bronte.

9) Brits or Americans?

I love British literature up to the 1850's, and then after that I mostly prefer American.

10) Who deserves to win the next Nobel Prize for literature?

I really don't know. I wish I read more high-minded stuff, but I don't.

11) What book would you most like to see made into a movie?

The Last Man, by Mary Shelley. (They are saying that Will Smith movie is based on The Last Man, but no, I mean really based on that book with those characters.)

12) What book would you least like to see made into a movie?

The House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende, seriously. The book is disturbing enough.

13) Describe your weirdest dream involving a writer, book, or literary character.

Oy, I recently dreamed I was a prostitute in that Allende book mentioned above. I was the very best prostitute in the brothel, but I took too long getting changed, and when I came downstairs my pimp said I was wearing the wrong dress, so they gave my very high-dollar customer to someone else. Somehow this has to do with my real life, but I haven't worked it out yet. My dress was white and lacy and should have been black and slinky, BTW.

14) What is the most lowbrow book you've read as an adult?

Something about a cowboy and a baby published by Harlequin.

15) What is the most difficult book you've ever read?

Homer's Odyssey.

16) What is the most obscure Shakespeare play you've seen?

I saw the Henry V movie with Kenneth Brannagh. I really liked it.

17) Do you prefer the French or the Russians?

I probably like the French better.

18) Roth or Updike?

Uh...

19) David Sedaris or Dave Eggers?

Dur...

20) Shakespeare, Milton, or Chaucer?

Shakespeare.

21) Austen or Eliot?

Austen.

22) What is the biggest or most embarrassing gap in your reading?

According to others, my failure to read the Harry Potter books.

However I have a really hard time bringing myself to read modern and post-modern work. It's so degrading to women.

23) What is your favorite novel?

Villette, by Charlotte Bronte.

24) Play?

Richard III, by Shakespeare

25) Poem/Poets?

Christina Rossetti.

26) Essay?

Escape from Hungary: Three Dark, Cold Days in 1956 by Joseph Nagyvary. (this is online)

27) Short story?

Ligeia, by Edgar Allan Poe.

28) Work of non-fiction?

Beginner's Mind, by Shunryu Suzuki

29) Who is your favorite writer?

Victoria Holt.

30) Who is the most overrated writer alive today?

J. K. Rowling and/or Stephanie Meyer. I haven't read their books, but I can just tell.

31) What is your desert island book?
Anthology of American Literature vol. I.

32) And ... what are you reading right now?

- The House of the Spirits, by Isabel Allende
- Christina Rossetti, Selected Poems
- The Cenci, by P. B. Shelley
- The Fourth Turning, by Strauss and Howe

I decided to start going out on my breaks again to recreate a private and creative space for myself, but the storm prevents the very first step of my resolution.

I felt that God was with me last night. After a sleepless and stress-filled night I found that the thunder and lightning were immense and that I should sleep another hour. Despite my stress I did sleep, and I feel better than I would have. I know that God is not in the storm or the fires, but God is the still small voice guiding me to do the right thing with what I have, if I let him.

I did wake with enough rest and strength. I have enough composure to get through the day. And no, it isn't about the wretched house. If I was enough of a spoiled brat to get so deeply distressed about that problem I wouldn't expect anyone, especially God, to care.

Labels: treo photos

"Well, good luck with that."

"Thanks." Cassandra looked at the coffee he was making for her, wishing he could imbue it with a double shot of extra confidence. "It's really important to me. I am great admirer of this person's work."

"Your interview is here?"

Cassandra nodded.

"Why don't you come by and tell me how it went, okay? I'll be rooting for you. Oh, and-" He passed her a small paper-wrapped object. "Teddy bear cookie for you on the house."

"Thanks." Cassandra gave a dazed laugh. "I may save that for later."

"Seriously." He cast her a direct gaze. "Let me know how it went."

Labels: timed writing challenge

Labels: treo photos

She needed a moment to collect herself before her big interview.

She stepped up to the coffee bar and met the gaze of a tall, slender man with long, pale hair and sea-green eyes. He gazed back at her penetratingly for a moment before he collected himself to take her order.

Cassandra realized with a slightly dazed feeling that he wasn't human. Could this be one of the angels rumored to be colonizing Cristalle? She tried not to pay any more note to him and focused herself on her order.

As she scanned over the daily offerings she was filled with self-doubt, derived probably from her pending interview with a great idol of hers. She had no idea if her coffee order should say something about her, be the opposite of all that she was, be parsimonous or extravagant.

She ordered a masala coffee redolent with spices and mystique, something whose odor would transport her for a while to a gypsy caravan under the desert sun.

"My personal favorite," the man behind the counter commented, to which Cassandra did not have a reply.

Because there were no customers in line behind her he started on her order immediately, and Cassandra watched his deft, efficient work as he ground, spiced and brewed her coffee.

He gave her a backward glance after a moment. "So what are you doing today?" he asked.

Labels: timed writing challenge

I uploaded to my Flickr for the first time in three years! I think I may start using it again. I don't know.

Winter Light is ugly again! I trashed up my web style too much with random stuff so I cleared it all back to a default template. One of my users says she got a virus warning from my page. I hope this clears up the problem till I get around to redesigning my site again.

I do believe there are some human beings so born, so reared, so guided from a soft cradle to a calm and late grave, that no excessive suffering penetrates their lot, and no tempestuous blackness overcasts their journey.

There are times when I feel these words to my very soul. I think I was inspired by Villette a little in Red Rose. Bronte does not hold back on throwing every torture possible upon Lucy from the beginning of the story to the end, so that this passage, in itself cradled amidst her inner torments is wrought with great feeling. I am a dark soul like Lucy, and I feel these words to my very soul sometimes during the day as I listen to others in what is perhaps a bout of self-indulgent self-tragedy.

Labels: reading notes

(Written last Wednesday.)

I keep trying to express my feelings, but they only grow stranger. A tangled web of longing and horror, a three-fold reaction to my surroundings, my life and all that I am. It is such an intense thing I am feeling, oh, I wish I could get it out. I am stifled and too free at the same time. I am longing for the past, for darling dolls and being free and creative and to have life be so effortless. I long for that. I long for what wasn't real!

A new chapter in my life. I am at the very threshold. I am being driven to insanity by this long blank in which I can do nothing. I am not putting much more into our present home, because pretty soon we will do a thorough cleaning and be done with it, and I can't do anything for our future home except make curtains and placemats, but even as I do I am cautioned by experience that it is not our home yet, the place for which I am sewing, and something could happen.

In addition to impatience I have a real fear. I grew into apartment life out of dorm life, in which 80-90% of life is spent outside of the residence. I go to coffee shops to write or read. It's difficult to think of any other way, and yet soon, there will be no coffee shops, no bookstores close by. Once I would have scoffed at the minor detail, but now I feel afraid of how I will settle into country life.

I want to make a success of it. I want to make a journal for the home. I was thinking of it this afternoon. It will have to be a binder in which I can insert digital notes, because I take so many of those. I want to be a good homemaker, put some time aside every day to cook, clean or improve. I am afraid I can't live up to that.

I am afraid to let go of old things and old ways. There are things to which I cling that have no place in my life. Remnants of the past I should do without. Some of the things fade away on their own. Some of them resonate with me at odd times. A way I deal with it is to listen to Gackt, which is something special to me in its own right and reminds me of the beauty I once loved that will have no place in my future. I am going to a place that will not know of these things.

The hardest thing for me to release right now is beautiful Korean manhwa. I love the tall, haughty figures with long, long hair, which Josette embodied so completely. I tell myself that when I want to, I can look at Model in the bookstore, if I miss it so much, but I never do. I know the whole story after all. I can remember it so well. The sunlit field ending reminds me of Josette in River Legacy. Intense sunlight, woman with long hair and fingers. I added Dollmore updates to my blocked list a while ago. I would never have bought Josette if I hadn't been on the damned list anyway, and I have no way of communicating an unsubscribe to them.

This week has been Model week, Model manhwa and Dollmore Model. Why do I keep hoping there's going to be some place for it in my life when there never will be?

I try and look for some other form of beauty, but none is so intense. I can't deny the life-giving inspiration those memories give me. When I close off the memories and my feelings I feel like a black-swathed nun, and that life has nothing to offer me.

Labels: bjd's

I felt down last night because I looked through cookbooks all evening and felt no inspiration for the weekend. However this morning I realized I need to make koch kasses. I have several recipes. The beer cheese will cure for a few days, but the Swiss we can have Saturday. It is so joyful for me to be able to make food connected to my ancestry. The Irish and German both.

I have been loving lilting Irish carols lately.

I also am thinking of making a Christmas journal. Christmas is important to me, an emotional time, and I feel like I never quite do what I mean to do, so I want to write out all the things I want to do for Christmas so I can live it more fully.

Today is crazy. On top of having some special visitors, my deadline is, well, right now. I deleted a line in my program yesterday which proved fatal to last night's run, and sealed my fate today. I may be here late. Somehow I am not as upset as I thought I would be. It will be okay.

Yesterday I made placemats and napkins. I have enough fabric for two more of each and two tea towels.

I am so busy this morning, and sewing all day yesterday left me tired this morning. I have so much to do I can't believe it, and here I have story inspiration, sewing project to finish, home planning.

Maybe take a day off pretty soon? Once I get what I need to do done at work, a little holiday for writing and sewing.