I've decided that never again will I question my abilities on this front if I see this request on a job description. It always seems to show up on jobs like mine: "must be a motivated self-starter."

What this has actually meant is "must be able to work in isolation for at least eighteen months on a project that one's co-workers do not understand and cannot assist with, but know that they wanted to have access to at least nine months ago."

Background to this email: Jeff's and my 10th anniversary is in late July. We found out last week that instead of the fall, as we'd been told, my mother's wedding would actually be on Saturday, August 2 in central Arkansas. We had made trip plans months ago, which required changing in order to make it to the wedding. (It's about a 7.5-hour drive each way from Huntsville to my hometown.)

The last part won't go over well. I have little doubt of that.

Mom -

From an email I sent to Val today:

I'm really struggling with the weightlifting, and something just doesn't seem right. I've had to lay off lifting a bit this month because of Atlanta trips, but I'm getting exhausted during weightlifting sessions and it's not the kind that I get a second wind and bounce back from. Something's not right, and I don't know what.

There was more said than that, but it's unimportant. Val's response was unequivocal:

"oh my Lord
why's it taking you so long
to give me grace
and the dignity to right these wrongs"
- Jonatha Brooke, 'Deny' (bonus track from _Steady Pull_, 2001)

It's a chorus, really; voices in my head taking on the voices of two particular friends, taking their words, doubling, tripling them until the sounds of their voices drown out my own.

Attempt number one involved scooping Edmund up and trying to pop a pill in his mouth. Attempt number one ended with Jeff bleeding from two long, ugly scratches on his forearm and Edmund sulking in another room.

Call the vet. Lovely, practical, unruffled vet. "We have a problem."

"He's stressed, so don't try to bring them in today. Tomorrow morning, crush the remaining pill and give it to them with a treat or some food, and maybe that will work."

"All right."

Geof reminded me today:

"Question: how do you eat an elephant?"
"Answer: one bite at a time."Thus, today, I've been nibbling away at the elephant that is the sum total of my old cat.net entries. I'm trying to get them moved into greymatter format and to make them play nicely with my new ones, but I have to be honest. It's just not happening, and I'm starting to get really frustrated.