SWORDFERN
Rooted, I used to think.

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Purgatory - Sunday, Feb. 10, 2019
Day Fifteen - Saturday, Feb. 09, 2019
Day Fourteen - Saturday, Feb. 09, 2019
Day Thirteen - Thursday, Feb. 07, 2019
Atonement - Thursday, Feb. 07, 2019


2002-05-05 @ 10:20 a.m.
Cat Nap



Tired, but it's a happy tired. The work doesn't end. Monday to friday, saturday to sunday, 9am-5pm, 10pm-11pm. Sleep is amazingly satisfying. "Aren't you a bit lonely out there all alone?" Mom queries. I just grabbed a quick nap during which Deuce came and snuggled into my chest and rested his head on my arm. He must have been dreaming because he batted at my face in the midst of definite slumber. The time alone, off my feet, with the affectionate cats is never lonely.

Deuce was out in the yard this afternoon following a brown mouse around nonchalantly. The mouse was minding his own business. Perhaps he could observe the fat and gastronomically satisfied feline following him, and sensed no immediate danger, or else maybe he knew his minutes were limited so just relaxed to enjoy them. Nevertheless, the classic mouse shape with the long tail was the sight for the day.

Miss S invited me to a house party tonight, but I'm not going. The shared pitchers last night were enough. I caught up with her and the old lab crew. There is nothing that this house party could offer me that would be better than an early night with novels.

Cowboy seemed saddened that I could be so blissful without male company. I asked him what was wrong with being independent, and why I should follow the mainstream of marriage, children, house... moreover, why am I supposed to be miserable being single? He could not answer. He just moped.

R&D Technologist is my official title. I'm a lab tech. And a farmer on the weekends. That blue collar is fading to a pale sky colour. I'm feeling mild dissonance as to whether this is the right direction. Things, as always, will fall into place eventually. They are pretty much in place already.


Roots | Shoots