Long talk with M. tonight. It’s interesting and challenging to be planning into the future with another person. Challenging mostly because my whole life, thanks to the constant value-hammering by the one and only Pat, has been predicated on the thought you have to take care of yourself.

I’ve modified that a bit in my head to allow for my helping others, like my friends. But, the notion of accepting help. Egads, what a notion.

I’m mostly kidding. Just another life’s lesson to push on through, I guess.

The fun part is we each have a couple of options/choices we are mulling over in our respective skulls. His about possible jobs, mine about, hmmm, I guess, the opposite. How best to be jobless, perhaps? It’s kind of a ballet, where we each are working our own options in a pas de deux with the other. My GOD, the notion that little old me, and an actual flesh-and-blood boyo might dance rather than spar. How truly, unusally mundane and respectable. By god, next I might just stop swearing and act like a perfect young lady. OK, not young, and fuck the non-cursing, that’s just not fun.

Meanwhile, the Bush Focus Bush project is occupying another weekend. It’s an interesting process about which I shall write in a day or so, I think. Mostly, I love watching the group dynamic. I am feeling back to my old, lovable self in a conference room, meeting, discussion session. I may even appear a fucking leader or at least a team-player, contributor without anyone treating me like an affliction of boils. What a thing. What a treat. It makes for less interesting posting to be sure, but fucking hell why did a buy into the certain perceptually altered state of my recent past? What the fuck was that mind control experiment all about?

Apart from my fingernails not being bloody stumps, my weight chilling to a summer fit, and my hauling my fat ass around on my newly tuned up bi-cy-cle, I now can sit in a disjointed, competitive attention-seeking meeting with a sense of fucking humor. Life’s a giggle in it’s little trials and tribulations.