if only we'd stop trying to be happy we could have a pretty good time

March 19: slough

This weekend's apartment cleaning allowed me to slough away some belongings that I no longer need.

March 20: vernal

This vernal weather is making everyone a little loopy; it's seriously hard to get anything done when behavior is so totally off the wall. (Not like I'm complaining.)

    I'm so far beyond overworked, it's insane. I won't see the surface until autumn at the earliest. It's not such a bad thing. Busy keeps me out of trouble.

    My brother's intended sent a text message with photo attached last night, showing my brother acting silly in public. I'm still not quite sure what to think. I mean, it's just so strange.  It almost makes me think that there's hope for us Eeyore types, who've always presumed that not only is the sky falling, but it's going to land directly on top of us.     

     The Mumbler has rediscovered my phone number. Sort of.

    I'm reading three good books at the same time - all nonfiction - which is very odd and certainly disruptive to thinking. I should probably stop and finish just one at a time. Or I could just stop living the rest of my life while I read them...which sounds so much more appealing.

    Too twitchy to write tonight. Can't focus on anything.

[the title quotation is by Edith Wharton]