Absolutely could not get out of bed this morning. My own stupid fault: the night before I stayed up till midnight and slept late, so last night I couldn't sleep at a reasonable hour. Reading Alan Moore's "From Hell" right before I turned out the light didn't really help, either. I tossed & turned, built little structures in the bed with pillows, created fantasy scenarios based on The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress, finally sunk into a disturbed sleep.

I had dreams of making out with a colleague at the school of ed., putting a stop to it, and then looking around my old highschool smoking area to see if Jesse was around. Disturbing. I woke up at 6 and immediately began to worry about fitting in work around the proposed square dancing trip this weekend. It was the classic story of sleeplessness: too worried to sleep when I had time, I drifted off again at 6:55...5 minutes before the CBC started blaring in my ear. In a perhaps ill-advised move, I turned off the alarm & went back to sleep. Dreamt that I was in front of classmates in a skirt. I noticed my legs were unshaven; then I noticed that one of the hairs was actually a ballpoint. The rest of the dream involved the painless extraction of an entire ballpoint pen from my calf.

I'm thinking that it might've been best to just get up at 7.

I've been a bit stressed this week. The problem is that my adjustment problems just aren't going away. We've just finished the 7th week of class. There are 3 more weeks before practicum, at which point everything will get exponentially worse. It's almost starting to feel like The Year of the Temp in that I feel constantly torn between work, school & Boy...only this year I have the added fun of juggling home, church & volunteer work. And I'm under more pressure to make money. But at least I'm not plagued by the nagging worry that I won't get into teacher's college or downright terrified of getting married. Time heals all wounds, or something like that.

I still wish I could get a couple hours clear to finish the vacation entries, to edit the stanfest entries and to work on the secret project that is so top secret that I might have cover my mistake in writing about it by arranging for this diary entry to explode.

I apologize for that last sentence. Yesterday I devoted hours & hours to the creation of an electronic identity quilt. I fear that the effort has made me loopy.

slightly later

Email from Poet...apparently they're expecting another military coup this week. I'm sure that he'll be in no personal danger, but...it really puts my problems into perspective, doesn't it.

I've been teaching myself to create animated gifs tonight (without, I might add, the benefit of a tuorial!) This is what I've done so far:

The Boy calls it 'a night-time walk down Pickle Street.' Life is silly.