I keep telling my fingers to move. I stare at them and will it to be. It’s exhausting. I suppose I could start typing when they’re not looking. But my fingers are very clever. They learned all about reverse psychology in one of those many classes I attended. I’m glad some part of me was listening when the professors droned on and on. I regret that that part of me didn’t have much use for that knowledge. (Don’t tell them, they’re sensitive about what they can and cannot do.)

My spacebar is sticking. This is not a good sign. Youmightstartseeingsentencesthathavenospaces. You’ll have to learn to deal with it. For the record, that earlier sentence should count as more than one word. I’ll let the powersthatbe know. It’s fun to invent space-free words. I hear the German language is full of them.

One of the blogs I frequent—I would provide the link but I still don’t have internet access at home—posted an entry made up of nothing but consternations. It was surprising to see another author sharing his inner demons. That almost makes it sound noble, like sharing your secret deep important parts. I know it’s no such thing, but it was nice to think of it in that way for at least that moment. If nothing else his entry provided me a mirror to see the ugliness and self-defeating nature of my own consternation-filled musings: The incredible wasted effort and time. The widowed children. The heartache and pain and seared words.

Who am I kidding? There was no ugliness in his entry. I enjoyed reading every word of his consternations. It was fun to watch someone else suffer—to revel like a pagan over a particularly bloody sacrifice, if you will, in their suffering. I am not alone in this practice. Other people go through the same pains and failures as me. It turns out the demons are all closely related—I’m thinking first cousins on their mother’s side. Their manners are slightly different, and they whisper different words, but when it comes down to it, they all get up early each morning and put one leg at a time into their pants. And they pack their own lunch. And, yeah, I don’t know where I’m going with this either, but I hear it’s warm and fuzzy and they serve lunch.

I’m tired again. It’s still early and I had hopes of all sorts. I’ve whittled those hopes into a fine point and I’m balancing precariously on its point. I expect to fall off at any time now. My real hope is that I don’t have other sharpened hopes waiting for me to fall. That may be slightly on the painful side. To explain to those who are not following my convoluted and inane logic: I don’t want to fall from the sharpened point of this hope (i.e., my hope to say something tonight), only to land on other hopes, which I suppose would be altitudinally lower than my current hope. These other hopes may or may not be sharpened to a point—my worries only increase if it is sharpened to a point, obviously.

I spent a few hours recoding the inner workings of sewcrates.com. When I moved from self-hosting to a hosting provider, I lost a bit in the CPU or disk cycles, enough so when I regenerate the content (musings, categories, cached index pages) for the site, it takes a long time, up to two minutes in some cases. I’ve reworked the code and added a smarter indexer. It now only regenerates index pages with information that changed since the last update. I’m almost done. Not that you’ll notice any changes. It’s all the same from the user’s perspective. That’s one of the problems with all of this work. There’s no bang. But it’s there and I’m having fun doing it and it makes me happy and it’s better than writing these stupid senseless entries that seem to go on forever in my pursuit of this imagined Goal when what I really should be doing is writing stories that people may actually want to read instead of going on and on in a poor attempt to amaze everyone with my long ungrammatical sentences that start nowhere and end at the corner of nowhere and get the fuck out of here before I go medieval on your ass boulevard.

Speaking of webpage work, I’m also in the process of reworking our wedding website. I think I mentioned this before. I am having trouble with the redesign, and I have a feeling that I will reuse the engagement design and make only content changes. (That was my mother’s idea. I know, you’re never supposed to listen to your mother, but I’m getting desperate). I need to add the wedding dates and information and include our fancy new photoshopped wedding photos from Taiwan. That all has to wait until my new computer returns from the shop. Supposedly Alienware shipped it back today. As I’ve documented before, this has been a nightmare new computer purchase. Assuming the computer works when I receive it (a huge assumption), the nightmare should be ending. I’ll withhold judgment until then. Once I get my computer set up, I’ll go about recreating the content and changing the site. I should have had this done a long time ago but I get easily distracted.

I finished a mug of yummy caffeine. I’m waiting for it to hit me over the head and light a fire under my arse. It hasn’t. I’m not sure if it ever will tonight. It’s another one of those forced entries. Okay it did eventually hit me and it left me typing strange and illogical things. I guess that’s a good thing. I do tend to get stifled when I’m controlling the words. I have to learn to release control and see where things take me. They don’t always lead to interesting or useful places, but it’s better than tightly muzzling the muse and then crying when I can’t hear her sing. Muzzled muses. I kill me!

Speaking of weather (can you believe I made it this far without mentioning the weather? In Seattle?). It seems there are still many places in Seattle and on the eastside still without power. I can’t imagine not having power for four days. The power outage did give us something to talk about at work. The normal, How are you doing, was replaced by, Power? The other person would then launch into their soliloquy on their power situation: how long it’s been out, how they’ve been surviving (the mall and work are excellent places to keep warm), how now they’re going to go out and buy a generator so this won’t happen again (only to forget about it three months from now until the next disaster), and how long their Thursday night commute took (mine was over two hours). According to my detailed calculations, the Power question should last for three more days. After which we will return to our normally scheduled “How’s it going” programming.