It's probably the Paxil
Jan. 29th, 2007 07:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
charliesmumI'm still enjoying my time as a housewife. I know I should be a bit more worried about money and things, but frankly, I can't think of it right now. We are doing okay financially at the moment, We signed on for this Cinergy thing which is helping with the healthcare, and my house is slowly getting organized.
I mean today I woke up, took Charlie to school, started laundry, cleaned my leather couch, put away the dishes, went to the market, did more laundry, picked Charlie up from school, started dinner, made Rice Krispie Treats, did some more laundry, served dinner, cleaned up after dinner and did more laundry. And I was glad to do it. For me it totally beats having to sit in an office trying to do things I don't like doing.
I know I'm probably setting feminism back a bit. My friend, who is also mostly a stay-at-home mom, are joking about dressing up like it's the 50s, hats and all, and meeting somewhere for coffee. To paraphrase Dharma from Dharma and Greg, we'll save money by shopping in the 50s.
When I think of getting a job outside in the world, I feel physically ill. I really, really, really don't want another job I'm not good at. What I am going to do is learn about some training opportunities I can get through unemployment, and do that. Maybe something will come up that is right for me. Who knows.
Anyway...I've been reading posts, but haven't really had time to respond to all of them. Those of you who are having some difficulties and sadness, please know I'm thinking of you and sending good thoughts.
Oh, PS. I wrote a Discworld thingy. It's not great, but here it is for anyone interested: It was the time the morning that was so early it was late, and even the most rowdy of pub crawlers have called it a night, found their teeth and wandered home.
However, the Patrician, ruler of the Ankh Morpork, occasionally called Discworld’s greatest city* was up and dressed and sitting in his Oblong office, reading reports from his various spies. He liked this time of day. Everything was in a state of anticipation. Nothing horrible had happened yet, whatever horrible things that happened the day before were now safely in the past, and one could pretend, just for a moment, that nothing horrible was going to happen in the day ahead.
Therefore, when the tall, dark-robed figure stalked into the room, the Patrician simply glanced up, smiled, and lay down his pen.
“Oh, it’s you. I suppose I should’ve been expecting you. It’s been a rather busy year.”
MY LORD. ARE YOU READY TO LAY DOWN YOUR BURDEN AND GO FORTH TO WHATEVER REWARD AWAITS YOU?
The Patrician glanced down at his paperwork full of intrigue, lying, greed and the occasional murder. Ankh-Morpork always seemed to be walking just on the edge of disaster. It was exhausting, being the leader of such a cesspool of humanity, and the temptation to leave it all behind and find some everlasting sleep was strong. Still… “Oh the whole, I think not.”
Death sighed. IT REALLY ISN’T SUPPOSED TO WORK LIKE THIS, YOU KNOW.
“Yes, I do apoligise, but there is far too much for me to do at present, and my successor is, as yet, still too young to take on the burden of command. I believe I’m needed for another year or so, at least.”
Death gave a weary sigh. VERY WELL. YOU MAY CHALLENGE ME. AGAIN.
The Patrician opened a drawer, then hesitated, “The usual? As Death nodded, he added, “Are you sure you wouldn’t want to try Thud, or Chess?”
NO. THUD GIVES ME A HEADACHE, AND I CAN NEVER REMEMBER WHICH WAY THE HORSES MOVE IN CHESS.
“Cripple Mr Onion it is.” The Patrician pulled out a deck of cards from his desk as Death drifted over to a table in the corner, by the windows.
As the Patrician dealt the cards, Death attempted small talk.
SO. HOW HAVE THINGS BEEN?
“Oh the usual. The post office is coming along nicely and the Times continues to keep abreast of all situations in most amusing ways. We had the Koom Valley problem, as I’m sure you were aware, but that was eventually sorted out by Lord Vimes.”
AH, VIMES. A VERY INTERESTING MAN. I’VE WALKED WITH HIM MANY A TIME. I AWAIT THE DAY HE CHALLENGES ME AS YOU DO, MY LORD.
“I don’t’ know. I think by the time his time comes, he will be ready for it. There’s a man always up for a new challenge.”
Small talk used up, the two combatants played in silence, like two people who long ago said everything they needed to say, and were content to simply get on with things.
Finally the game was down to its final denouement. Death might have the ultimate poker face, but the Patrician ran a close second. The tension in the air was palatable, or would be if anyone besides Wuffles, the Patrician’s elderly dog, was in the room. Wuffles wasn’t much interested in current events, and was currently dreaming of a time when the world wasn’t so creaky and cold.
The Patrician lay down his final hand. “It looks like I win again,” he said in what was, for him, a jovial voice.
Death stood up. I SUPPOSE YOU MAY STAY FOR A BIT LONGER, AS PER THE STANDARD AGREEMENT. I WILL NOT TAKE YOU TODAY.
“Thank you. It was a pleasure playing with you again. I do enjoy our time together.”
AS DO I. Death started to leave, then hesitated, and turned back to the Patrician. He’d been coming for him for almost ten years, and he always left without him after losing at cards. In an odd way, they’d become something like friends. Death was always rather pleased when the game was lost, although he wouldn’t admit it. THERE WILL BE A TIME WHEN I WILL HAVE TO WIN.
The Patrician smiled his thin smile. “Perhaps. Perhaps there will be a day when I will let you win. But for now, duty calls.”
FOR BOTH OF US. FAREWELL.
The Patrician nodded and then went back to his desk. When his secretary Drumknott came in with the morning’s Times, the Patrician was deeply immersed in some communications from Klatch as outside the windows Ankh-Morpork was waking up with its usual busy noises and occasional scream of terror.
“Busy day today, sir?” asked Drumknott as he placed the paper on the desk.
“Indeed it is, Drumknott.” The Patrician barely looked up from the report. “There’s no rest for the weary.”
*But not usually by those who live in it.
I mean today I woke up, took Charlie to school, started laundry, cleaned my leather couch, put away the dishes, went to the market, did more laundry, picked Charlie up from school, started dinner, made Rice Krispie Treats, did some more laundry, served dinner, cleaned up after dinner and did more laundry. And I was glad to do it. For me it totally beats having to sit in an office trying to do things I don't like doing.
I know I'm probably setting feminism back a bit. My friend, who is also mostly a stay-at-home mom, are joking about dressing up like it's the 50s, hats and all, and meeting somewhere for coffee. To paraphrase Dharma from Dharma and Greg, we'll save money by shopping in the 50s.
When I think of getting a job outside in the world, I feel physically ill. I really, really, really don't want another job I'm not good at. What I am going to do is learn about some training opportunities I can get through unemployment, and do that. Maybe something will come up that is right for me. Who knows.
Anyway...I've been reading posts, but haven't really had time to respond to all of them. Those of you who are having some difficulties and sadness, please know I'm thinking of you and sending good thoughts.
Oh, PS. I wrote a Discworld thingy. It's not great, but here it is for anyone interested: It was the time the morning that was so early it was late, and even the most rowdy of pub crawlers have called it a night, found their teeth and wandered home.
However, the Patrician, ruler of the Ankh Morpork, occasionally called Discworld’s greatest city* was up and dressed and sitting in his Oblong office, reading reports from his various spies. He liked this time of day. Everything was in a state of anticipation. Nothing horrible had happened yet, whatever horrible things that happened the day before were now safely in the past, and one could pretend, just for a moment, that nothing horrible was going to happen in the day ahead.
Therefore, when the tall, dark-robed figure stalked into the room, the Patrician simply glanced up, smiled, and lay down his pen.
“Oh, it’s you. I suppose I should’ve been expecting you. It’s been a rather busy year.”
MY LORD. ARE YOU READY TO LAY DOWN YOUR BURDEN AND GO FORTH TO WHATEVER REWARD AWAITS YOU?
The Patrician glanced down at his paperwork full of intrigue, lying, greed and the occasional murder. Ankh-Morpork always seemed to be walking just on the edge of disaster. It was exhausting, being the leader of such a cesspool of humanity, and the temptation to leave it all behind and find some everlasting sleep was strong. Still… “Oh the whole, I think not.”
Death sighed. IT REALLY ISN’T SUPPOSED TO WORK LIKE THIS, YOU KNOW.
“Yes, I do apoligise, but there is far too much for me to do at present, and my successor is, as yet, still too young to take on the burden of command. I believe I’m needed for another year or so, at least.”
Death gave a weary sigh. VERY WELL. YOU MAY CHALLENGE ME. AGAIN.
The Patrician opened a drawer, then hesitated, “The usual? As Death nodded, he added, “Are you sure you wouldn’t want to try Thud, or Chess?”
NO. THUD GIVES ME A HEADACHE, AND I CAN NEVER REMEMBER WHICH WAY THE HORSES MOVE IN CHESS.
“Cripple Mr Onion it is.” The Patrician pulled out a deck of cards from his desk as Death drifted over to a table in the corner, by the windows.
As the Patrician dealt the cards, Death attempted small talk.
SO. HOW HAVE THINGS BEEN?
“Oh the usual. The post office is coming along nicely and the Times continues to keep abreast of all situations in most amusing ways. We had the Koom Valley problem, as I’m sure you were aware, but that was eventually sorted out by Lord Vimes.”
AH, VIMES. A VERY INTERESTING MAN. I’VE WALKED WITH HIM MANY A TIME. I AWAIT THE DAY HE CHALLENGES ME AS YOU DO, MY LORD.
“I don’t’ know. I think by the time his time comes, he will be ready for it. There’s a man always up for a new challenge.”
Small talk used up, the two combatants played in silence, like two people who long ago said everything they needed to say, and were content to simply get on with things.
Finally the game was down to its final denouement. Death might have the ultimate poker face, but the Patrician ran a close second. The tension in the air was palatable, or would be if anyone besides Wuffles, the Patrician’s elderly dog, was in the room. Wuffles wasn’t much interested in current events, and was currently dreaming of a time when the world wasn’t so creaky and cold.
The Patrician lay down his final hand. “It looks like I win again,” he said in what was, for him, a jovial voice.
Death stood up. I SUPPOSE YOU MAY STAY FOR A BIT LONGER, AS PER THE STANDARD AGREEMENT. I WILL NOT TAKE YOU TODAY.
“Thank you. It was a pleasure playing with you again. I do enjoy our time together.”
AS DO I. Death started to leave, then hesitated, and turned back to the Patrician. He’d been coming for him for almost ten years, and he always left without him after losing at cards. In an odd way, they’d become something like friends. Death was always rather pleased when the game was lost, although he wouldn’t admit it. THERE WILL BE A TIME WHEN I WILL HAVE TO WIN.
The Patrician smiled his thin smile. “Perhaps. Perhaps there will be a day when I will let you win. But for now, duty calls.”
FOR BOTH OF US. FAREWELL.
The Patrician nodded and then went back to his desk. When his secretary Drumknott came in with the morning’s Times, the Patrician was deeply immersed in some communications from Klatch as outside the windows Ankh-Morpork was waking up with its usual busy noises and occasional scream of terror.
“Busy day today, sir?” asked Drumknott as he placed the paper on the desk.
“Indeed it is, Drumknott.” The Patrician barely looked up from the report. “There’s no rest for the weary.”
*But not usually by those who live in it.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
on 2007-01-30 12:55 am (UTC)no subject
on 2007-01-30 01:27 am (UTC)I'm glad you're finding it to be a fulfilling thing, and hope you get as long to enjoy it as you wish :)
no subject
on 2007-01-30 12:48 pm (UTC)