Posted on May 21st, 2013
I’ve pulled myself out of last week’s abyss and have become productive again. (Go, Protestant work ethic, go. This is how I measure my worth, when I’m not measuring it by the state of my house, my age, education, or the behavior of my child in public situations.) Even though sequestration means I won’t have access to some of the archived materials I need, the public domain, Google books, Powell’s, and various digitization projects mean I’ve got enough primary and secondary material to work with until someone in federal governance decides to spend money on public services again.
The novel I should be pitching? I’m not. It’s done, as much as it’s going to be done before an editor works on it. I need to be pitching it, but it’s amazing how good I am at finding other things to do. Isn’t that absurd? Of all the things I’ve done in my life, writing letters, even letters that will result in rejection, doesn’t even make the top 10 in terms of generating fear or anxiety. The emotion is more like not wanting to sit down and do taxes.
Pea. Oh, Pea. She is at a delightfully annoying, maddening, advancing stage. (Things I have to say, Part 512: “You can sing your ‘I hate song’ after you put your clothes on and brush your hair and teeth.”) We went on a hike yesterday (maybe a mile loop, with some minor elevation) which involved freaking out about the (very few) insects, no fear of banana slugs, and Pea spotting a pileated woodpecker from a remarkable distance (clearly her eyes don’t come from me–or M, for that matter). Also yesterday? Refusal to go to sleep. This sort of thing usually accompanies a growth spurt. Let’s hope that’s it.
Today would have been an OMSI day, but for the refusal to sleep/waking me up early (she has a clock in her room, and in the event I’m not already up at 8, she is not to wake me up until 8). Not only is she grounded from TV, but also the outing was postponed. (She gets to watch TV after M gets home; he gets to be the good guy, although whenever I break and let her watch, it’s spoken of in hushed tones usually reserved for seeing Virgin Mary on a piece of moldy toast.) I realize this is probably more punishment for me than for her, but the lack of sleep is a migraine trigger and OMSI with migraine and school field trip groups (it’s the end of the school year: oh, joy) might just break me.
There’s a possibility we may be able to move to a house in a better school district, although after crunching the numbers, I don’t know if we can swing it. (It would mean a much longer commute for M, though the rent alone is about right. Unfortunately, there are more utility costs than initially indicated.) In any event, nothing is happening soon. I’m okay with that for now, although I really, really would like to not live near old ladies who smoke. Because, gross.