blues

Hello, all. I thought to participate in a NaBloPoMo this month, but I found August’s topic uninspiring. (Not that I’m coming up with any stellar topics over here…I just don’t want to blog about “hot.”)

At first, I thought NaBloPoMo was actually a specific month. Maybe it is, even. However, according to the site where I got August’s theme, any month can qualify. I’m just not ready for this month to be the month.

I’m slipping into some familiar depression here. This isn’t unusual. I just feel lethargic, unwilling to do much. This can’t be the case because a lot is pressing on me right now. My penultimate semester here is looming and I’m not quite feeling prepared for the challenge. I’d like it to be the ultimate semester already. Then, I question why I do this…wishing for time to fly away. I really don’t want to rush through this life. I want to savor it. I just need to figure out how.

I’m also still conflicted about the should I stay or should I go now (if I stay there will be trouble, if I go there will be double…no?) dilemma. No matter what, though, I will be applying to a second Master’s degree over the ocean (where my bonny lies, in case you didn’t know…enough with the song references, I know).

Anyhow, I need to break out of this pattern.

On a good note, I went climbing for the first time yesterday. I don’t think I can do the experience much justice by writing about it now – I’m just too tired and glum – so I’ll write about it later. (I would post pictures, but I didn’t bring the camera, so no photographic evidence. Next time, though.)

I do have to say, though, that although dearest husband is a pisces, I think he was meant to be an aries. He took to climbing amazingly well. He has an instinct for it. He hasn’t taken to water nearly as well. Cardo’s ready to go out climbing again. He keeps gushing, “I hope they call me again and invite me to go climbing.” It’s nice (and kind of cute) to see him get so excited about something.

One last note: I made a dinner concoction tonight. Couscous, organic peas and not-organic turkey (organically-raised? I don’t know). I’m not exactly sure why I didn’t remember that cooked turkey is not a more appealing color, but I didn’t. I, of course, took pictures of our dishes. A couple of bites into the meal, Pic got up and started rooting around the desk.

“What are you looking for, love?”

“The camera. I want to take a picture of dinner.”

Ah, my child, through and through.