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Mar. 14th, 2003 10:58 pmI don't like it that I don't like it when he's not here.
I lived alone for how many years? I was never in any kind of hurry to move in with anyone, and I never did until now. I've always liked spending time alone. But there's something about his going off to work in the evening that makes me really sad -- especially Fridays, when I haven't got anything that's got to get ready for the next day. At least he's only got two evening shifts right now.
While I'm adapting to being alone again, the cats are adapting to being roommates. Cabell's had several already -- Nicky, who predated her and died of diabetes at age 11, and Alexander, the kitten who only made it to six months (and who is thus idealized as the most perfect, playful, adorable kitten ever). The new kitten's four months old, at that stage where he's still tiny, but with long skinny legs that he bounces all around on. From hissing to ignoring each other in two days, I'd say they're doing pretty well. It's rather touching the way the kitten keeps hoping she'll change her mind and be his friend -- and judging by past performance, she will, when she gets 'round to it.
Emailed in my paper proposal for WisCon today. I have really mixed feelings about giving a paper on a living writer -- who's actually going to be there, quite probably interested in the panels about him. What if everything I say sounds like so much academic bs? OTOH, how fantastic if I could get feedback on my feedback -- there could be some really interesting dialogue.
Next, the conference paper on Dickens, who's not likely to have any opinions on anything I've got to say. Luckily, as I'm not being entirely kind, and I have this niceness issue . . .
I lived alone for how many years? I was never in any kind of hurry to move in with anyone, and I never did until now. I've always liked spending time alone. But there's something about his going off to work in the evening that makes me really sad -- especially Fridays, when I haven't got anything that's got to get ready for the next day. At least he's only got two evening shifts right now.
While I'm adapting to being alone again, the cats are adapting to being roommates. Cabell's had several already -- Nicky, who predated her and died of diabetes at age 11, and Alexander, the kitten who only made it to six months (and who is thus idealized as the most perfect, playful, adorable kitten ever). The new kitten's four months old, at that stage where he's still tiny, but with long skinny legs that he bounces all around on. From hissing to ignoring each other in two days, I'd say they're doing pretty well. It's rather touching the way the kitten keeps hoping she'll change her mind and be his friend -- and judging by past performance, she will, when she gets 'round to it.
Emailed in my paper proposal for WisCon today. I have really mixed feelings about giving a paper on a living writer -- who's actually going to be there, quite probably interested in the panels about him. What if everything I say sounds like so much academic bs? OTOH, how fantastic if I could get feedback on my feedback -- there could be some really interesting dialogue.
Next, the conference paper on Dickens, who's not likely to have any opinions on anything I've got to say. Luckily, as I'm not being entirely kind, and I have this niceness issue . . .
