Purgatories.

Lately, I have been forgetting that I am any sort of a writer, or that I have any kind of desire or obligation to fill up these little white boxes from time to time. I think it's getting me down a little, though of course that could also be a host of other things. So, let me try a little harder.

I'm at my parents' house now, which is perhaps my definition of the modern 'purgatory'. Nothing to do here, most days no real reason to get dressed before 5pm if I bother to get dressed at all. Can't leave the house on my own, and rarely have any idea where I'd like to go if I did leave. Yesterday I smacked through the ennui long enough to put on a bathing suit and go out to the back pool, only to see a large dead spider waiting for me under the water at the bottom of the stairs. In the deep end, a small (living) frog floated along atop the pool thermometer. I went inside, and took a shower.

Seven more days here, and I can't think of any way to make them not like the last seven. I feel most awake when I'm in the shower, enough to make plans and get back a little of my 'take charge' attitude (read books, practice japanese or korean, write that paper, call the landlord), but none of my books are waterproofed, and the feeling usually dissipates by the time I wrap a towel around my head and leave the bathroom. The real world just feels a little too far away.

And yet, I have plenty of work to do. Late paper to write, two languages to relearn, finances with which to wrestle. Silly, silly important things. I can't hope to get them all done through 6ish weekday afternoons in Brooklyn while I wait for friends to come home from work. Maybe about half, though. I have heard there are some very nice cafes in some of those Brooklyn neighborhoods.

I have, instead of stuff, managed a lot of naps with the new kitten. This kitten has no name, because no one in my family can agree on one. This perhaps makes him even more adorable. I went to my kid sister's open house and met all her teachers. Some of them may have thought I was her mother, until our own mother came in. Two were spastic in the way only high school teachers are, and four of them are probably good educators. Two were coaches pulled to fill in as teachers of classes they had never taught before, due to budget cuts. One was just vaguely annoying. There was another teacher-like person (computers?) we passed in the hall that I would have talked to/flirted with, if I did that kind of thing (I do not). Get me out of my house, ironic mutton chops. I am dying here.

I sort of wish my family lived closer, so I didn't have to go through feeling that my real life was being displaced every time I go to visit them. Or I could be smarter, and stay for less time...

Anyway! I hope when the fall semester starts, I'll feel like my life is picking up momentum again. I have the syllabus for the class I'm TAing (Intro to Japanese Civilization) in my inbox now. TA orientation and first classes will be all through my first week back. I haven't finalized my class selection, but I am getting there. I will have a best friend in the city I live in again, finally. I might have an immediate visitor from Ann Arbor as well, so long as the timing is right and the sublettor-roomie isn't sleeping in the living room when I get back. Maybe I will even have faith in boys again? I am really working on this. Of course, it'd help if the other team would meet me halfway.