![]()
![]()
![]()
september 14, 2001.
"Morally, we oughtta strike first. We gotta protect our women and kids, even if theirs die. That's morally logical."
- alan moore, watchmen: chapter xi, page 13.
![]()
The Boy is back in town, which has done much to right what was wrong in my world. With no one to talk to this week, I've been eating myself up from the inside: barely leaving the house, barely eating, sleeping really badly, unable to concentrate. Yesterday I had a headache from dawn till dusk, a needling pain that sabotaged even the Boy's homecoming. I rallied briefly during dinner (we went out for steak to celebrate my OSAP loan), but spent most of the night too easily irritated to be happy for any significant length of time. This morning was much better: even when the Boy woke me up on his way out to work, I was significantly happier than at any time since I found out about the WTC.
It's really amazing how much bearing one's physical state has on everything. Yesterday I couldn't concentrate on any one task for longer than 20 minutes; today I got an amazing amount done during my afternoon in the office. Yesterday I felt like I couldn't handle anything. Today, barring the outbreak of war or the bombing of the Halifax Citadel, I feel up to the challenge of dealing with the world's changes.
Dirk will be in Halifax in 2 weeks.
My parents will arrive for Canadian Thanksgiving in 3.
And life goes on.
![]()
I've been scanning my Stan Fest pictures this week, so you should know that that entry, while slow, is still a going concern. As for the vacation entries, I'm up to the 29th as of this writing, and the most bizarre (i.e. the drunken shaman prostitute story) is still to come. Stay tuned.
me in camp carpetbagger eating raisins & peanuts
off my pants after the great gorp disaster of '01
![]()
this time 3 years ago: "Oh, what did I just say?!"