it finally happened
Nov. 11th, 2004 08:43 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7Dave spent the night at his mom's house beagle-sitting. So I woke this morning to the house door opening and closing. The door sticks a bit and has to be slammed. It sounds, I realized in my sleep, a lot like the back porch door at my parents' house.
So I started off confused.
I lay there for a little while, and spoke to dave, wished him good morning, and lay feeling like hell. it's not that I was up so late last night, as that I've been up late and up early so much that cumulatively I'm exhausted. Finally I got out of bed to make Dave's lunch.
I stood in the kitchen for about five minutes, staring blankly and trying unsuccessfully to get my hair out of my face. (It is long and very straight. This morning it is not very clean. It is also tangled. I would push back part of it only to have another part fall forward.)
"What are you doing?" Dave asked.
"Making lunch," I answered fuzzily. "How do I make a sandwich?"
"You start with two slices of bread," he laughed.
"We don't have any bread," I answered, That much I could remember of the state of our groceries. Tuesday, I made him a sandwich on a hamburger bun.
"Go back to bed," Dave said. "I'll buy lunch."
It's his last day of classes for this quarter.
I went back to my bed and lay down, but as usual of late couldn't fall back asleep. So Dave came in to talk to me for a few minutes, as we didn't get to last night for very long. "I dreamed an idea for your novel," he said.
"Really," I said, interested. He hasn't been much interested in my novel. He hasn't been in any of them. I'm not in the genres he likes and there's little he can do about that. (One of the reasons I'm looking forward so much to collaborating with him.)
"Yeah," he said. "Your two characters get split up somehow, and then he's beseiging a city and knows she's inside and can't do anything about it."
That is a good idea.
I told him in my turn about a bit of dream I had the other night-- night before last? One before that?-- wherein his mom, in the context most likely of a family gathering, told me she liked me after all. And I was so happy when I woke up, and then I realized it was a dream, and was disappointed.
Ugh, my eyes aren't working. That's one thing I hate about computers: you must incessantly use your eyes. They should come up with a way of you not needing to look at the screen. I type with my eyes closed sometimes. Usually I'm exhausted enough to be incoherent at that point so i can't objectively assess how that turns out.
Oh, I worked last night until i was incoherent. Maybe I should look at what I wrote last. That's usually entertaining. I can keep my shit together for a pretty long time-- I know the time had long passed when I could sit up-- but when it goes it usually goes midsentence. (*looks*) No, I didn't write anything really funny. Too bad. Just stopped mid-word, is all.
We had a short talk last night, and dave reassured me that no, he really doesn't expect me to support him, and never did, and had been planning to look for a job tomorrow anyway. We're still okay, we still can meet our basic expenses immediately, but the fact remains we need income, which is no different from our situation before except that we need it rather more urgently.
But I am disappointed to reflect that next quarter, his last, is going to be difficult. he's been rushed off his feet all this quarter, without a job; now he's going to have to have one and be studying. I've been able to not do anything of value for so long, and no he never really supported me but he was there in case I needed help, and now I can't be his safety. I need a job.
Ugh, my eyes hurt and I feel like crap.
So I started off confused.
I lay there for a little while, and spoke to dave, wished him good morning, and lay feeling like hell. it's not that I was up so late last night, as that I've been up late and up early so much that cumulatively I'm exhausted. Finally I got out of bed to make Dave's lunch.
I stood in the kitchen for about five minutes, staring blankly and trying unsuccessfully to get my hair out of my face. (It is long and very straight. This morning it is not very clean. It is also tangled. I would push back part of it only to have another part fall forward.)
"What are you doing?" Dave asked.
"Making lunch," I answered fuzzily. "How do I make a sandwich?"
"You start with two slices of bread," he laughed.
"We don't have any bread," I answered, That much I could remember of the state of our groceries. Tuesday, I made him a sandwich on a hamburger bun.
"Go back to bed," Dave said. "I'll buy lunch."
It's his last day of classes for this quarter.
I went back to my bed and lay down, but as usual of late couldn't fall back asleep. So Dave came in to talk to me for a few minutes, as we didn't get to last night for very long. "I dreamed an idea for your novel," he said.
"Really," I said, interested. He hasn't been much interested in my novel. He hasn't been in any of them. I'm not in the genres he likes and there's little he can do about that. (One of the reasons I'm looking forward so much to collaborating with him.)
"Yeah," he said. "Your two characters get split up somehow, and then he's beseiging a city and knows she's inside and can't do anything about it."
That is a good idea.
I told him in my turn about a bit of dream I had the other night-- night before last? One before that?-- wherein his mom, in the context most likely of a family gathering, told me she liked me after all. And I was so happy when I woke up, and then I realized it was a dream, and was disappointed.
Ugh, my eyes aren't working. That's one thing I hate about computers: you must incessantly use your eyes. They should come up with a way of you not needing to look at the screen. I type with my eyes closed sometimes. Usually I'm exhausted enough to be incoherent at that point so i can't objectively assess how that turns out.
Oh, I worked last night until i was incoherent. Maybe I should look at what I wrote last. That's usually entertaining. I can keep my shit together for a pretty long time-- I know the time had long passed when I could sit up-- but when it goes it usually goes midsentence. (*looks*) No, I didn't write anything really funny. Too bad. Just stopped mid-word, is all.
We had a short talk last night, and dave reassured me that no, he really doesn't expect me to support him, and never did, and had been planning to look for a job tomorrow anyway. We're still okay, we still can meet our basic expenses immediately, but the fact remains we need income, which is no different from our situation before except that we need it rather more urgently.
But I am disappointed to reflect that next quarter, his last, is going to be difficult. he's been rushed off his feet all this quarter, without a job; now he's going to have to have one and be studying. I've been able to not do anything of value for so long, and no he never really supported me but he was there in case I needed help, and now I can't be his safety. I need a job.
Ugh, my eyes hurt and I feel like crap.
