beetiger

I feel like I haven't been writing much here, and when I have, it hasn't been very interesting.

We had a weekend of visiting relatives and making strawberry jam, in a sudden fit of summer productivity and having been given two flats of substandard strawberries for ten dollars. I snuck some red dye into the batch when no one was looking, because the berries looked a little anemic. My young cousins told us we should name Mothra Llewellyn (the only Welsh name anyone from that part of the family could think of) or Puss, pronounced like the bodily fluid, but with 2 's's.

Last night, a friend with a not-nearly full-enough new house took away the desk and bed that were in the room in which we need to put a crib and dresser. He promised us visitation rights on the desk, which we've had since early on in our time in Ithaca. Bard says I've been trying to get rid of it for ten years, but I don't think I'm really that inefficient.

I keep feeling like this job is pointless, except for the part about getting paychecks. I'm feeling exhausted, and scatterbrained, and not very effective. Bard keeps telling me I can quit whenever I want, if it's getting to be too much for me, but I keep feeling that the problem isn't anything to do with the pregnancy, just with the same kind of depression to which I’m prone. Giving up the vague social contact and the money won't help that.

I rolled my car into the one in front of me at a stop light this morning, after I'd come to a full stop, and was adjusting some clothing that isn't fitting right. The Prius seems to be much more prone to rolling from a stop than any other car I've driven, probably because it's lighter weight, and the motor's basically off then. There was a little paint scraped off the other car's back bumper, and though I couldn't really figure out the topology of how that bump had caused that scrape exactly, I gave him my insurance information. I was late.

So many people are out of the office this week, between vacations and the big national trade show in my field, that it's hard to get anything done. I'm going to look awful when my boss gets back from vacation. They really can't say much, though. They'd be afraid of getting sued.

I'm looking forward to Anthrocon. I'm pretty sure I have enough guaranteed social activity planned that I'll feel more connected. In addition, it's four days away from the office. I'm sure you won't notice how mopey I've been feeling. If I'm lucky, I won't either.