Today I folded sheets, ran three loads of laundry, emptied the dishwasher and the dishwrack, re-loaded the dishwasher and did the dishes, watered the plants and the garden, worked on clearing out one of our rooms, cleaning and sorting through boxes and packing materials, and then I went through the mail over lunch.
so, says the telemarketer, I'll just put Homemaker.
JD made me a tarred archive of my mathlan account and I unpacked it this morning. One file was called catwoman and I took a look in it, the title not ringing any bells in my head - forgetting I once used that name as an alias -and I read this rant, this diatribe against a woman who once greatly agrivated many backtablers and about halfway through I was really starting to wonder who the author was.. and a few paragraphs later a familiar phrase or two and certain types of references to elementary school made me realize that I was the author. I was the one tearing away at this woman whose hide I ultimately did not scratch, so far as I know. I was the one ending this public rant with black magic, appropriately repremanded for such by Kathryn Devani firewoman in the next post. Do my friends remember this rant better than I did?
There have been times when I feared being forgotten. Maybe I fear it because I am in a constant process of forgetting myself...