SA 11/1 The Ebb

[cthulhia]

She offers a parable of a temperamental (female) Queen who is, we would know now, flipping out from Seasonal Affective Disorder. Our souls ebb and flow like the daylight, or something.

I might become susceptible to SAD this year, after having spent last winter unemployed all day. My cubicle has no view. My only daylight is the morning commute and weekends. This is already annoying. I can try to train myself to get up no later than dawn, and avail myself of more morning light, even if just to go to the gym first, now that I have full time club access again. This means going to bed before 11 pm. I rarely succeed in getting to bed by midnight. But I will try.

The only other ebb is the usual one (romance). Then again, this time last year I felt the same way, only much, much more bitter about the whole thing. IM with Fling at least keeps me from forgetting how to flirt, and might improve my intimate communication skills, should I ever need them again. Perhaps that Dutch Boy from Spring Street will really hit the spot. Like I have the time.

::

And now, the monthly list: (last month)

• order catalogs from J. Peterman, which is still around. My last memories of them was rumors of bankruptcy, the Seinfeld chick working there and someone's senior layout project reformatting Archie McPhee Catalog like theirs – which was just wonderful.
  
• strike up a reciprocal relationship with my guardian angel. Ok, Bitch! Speak Up!
  
• Make or build a dream catcher. I have lately been dreaming that I was having sex with people in my social circles who I barely tolerate. Real wake up and go "ew!" stuff. ... Then there was that great dream where Roozle was the first EK Queen by right of arms. I was Queen two reigns before. The reign between us was won by some Uber Asshole. That's when the Nuclear War happened, not long after Roozle had won the tournament. Suddenly SCA royalty actually had Power. She would come to me for ruling advice, but then we'd also be discussing our lines, because really it was a film about post-nuclear SCA royalty. Pretty scary for some. But, I like dreams. they're wacky. Although, if I remember them too well, I know it means I didn't wake up when my body meant to.
  
• Write my own grace for thanksgiving. I'm not sure what I'm doing then. Not invited to the gourmet dinner this year. Vague offers in western MA and NYC, but who want to drive that weekend? (Especially since I hope to go to NYC the weekend before to see illegal art.) Someone else is considering volunteering in a soup kitchen, which... well, I should spend at least one thanksgiving doing that, I suppose. That's rather the point of the holiday.
  
• Then she suggests donating food to a shelter. I'd rather hold out until late January, when all the holiday cans of food have run out and people hunger again. Or I could do it both times, just to be sure.
  
• Watch the Macy's parade. Depends on whether it conflicts with the Gobble cubed.
  
• Don't shop the day after gorging thursday. Heh, she (accidentally?) supports Buy Nothing Day. If you don't care about the consumerism, then just do it for peace of mind.
  
• Choose your own advent calendar. I've been meaning to buy the Lego advent calendar for Years now.