Half days stink, in a way...

[partly]

The kids got to go home at noon today and we, lucky teachers that we are, got to spend the second half of the day in meetings. Yay, us. Actually, it was a lot more interesting than usual because the last hour and a half we as a special speaker come in and talk about angels. One of the benefits of working for a catholic school is that you get these little spiritual talks as part of the package.

I've never really given a lot of thought to angels per say. Others certainly have. I can't say with Catholics are more into angels than anyone else, I do know that in my church we don't. We got to look at angels in art and angels in common myth and we had this whole diagram of the nine levels of angels.

It was all very interesting. It wasn't very restful, though.

I've got a lot of work to do at school but seem unable to do it. I would like to write on BreckenHaven but seem unable to do that either. I have a lot of stuff hanging over my head that I am blindly ignoring -- or so it feels this time of night. Myr is having a rather rough time in school and I'm not sure how to help her right now. She says she wishes it could be summer all the time so that she could just relax and I completely agree with her. I'm not sure if her problems are something I can help with or if it's just her battling with growing up. Wil has a opportunity for us to do work on a comic -- no pay, but no investment but our time. He's unsure about being able to do it. It's a Christian comic and the person who he's working with is very enthusiastic and very sure of himself and his faith. Wil is not in that place. Faith is something he likes and aspires to, but not something he actually claims to have. We're going to be working on the stories together -- writing, drawing, coloring -- and I know he needs me to be enthusiastic about the project. I know he needs my help. Meanwhile, I feel like I'm just waiting for a bomb to go off.

I think I'm desperately looking for someone to provide me with some direction here, only problem is everyone is looking to me for direction.

It stinks being Pollyanna.

Only, it is the way I choose to be. The way I am naturally. I know what I have to do, damn it, I'm just tired. I drift.

This too shall pass, right? Forcing myself to write may help. Sleep doesn't seem to.

The angel talk was interesting. I wonder if there is one hanging about trying to get me to do what I have to.

Then again, sleep may be something I could use.

I'm almost melancholy. This keeps up I may become interesting. Can't let that happen.

Comments

[powerpynt.livejournal.com]

I had a neighbor, a quintessential "thumper" who watched Pat Roberson and his cronies from dawn to dusk. She knocked on my door one night and excitedly handed me an audio cassette as I opened the door, squealing that she'd heard the angels.
I humored her as she was old and lonely and I had the time to be nice, and listened to the tape with her. It was the worst type of con, a preprogrammed synthisizer played through toilet paper or some such while an engineer touched the reel to slow it down occassionally for the odd effect.

She was convinced; I just nodded and sent her on her way with an alleluia and a silent prayer that the true archangels would take this latest snake oil salesman to the gates of hell before she spent her entire widow's pension on faux faith crap.

On the other topic, this too shall pass hon and you know it will. It'll calm down and find it's groove; life always does that in spite of our best efforts to believe the chaos will go on forever. Have fun on the comic:)

Erik the Melancholy, King of all Dementia

[partly.livejournal.com]

I have a hard time explaining to some people that I believe, I just don't necessary believe with the same level of outward enthusiasm that they have. Too often it becomes a contest of "who believes more". Rational discussions with such people are impossible.

My attacks of melancholy usually don't last too long and they rarely make it into the LJ. This time it helped to share. Thanks for listening (or reading, as the case may be).

Erik the Melancholy, King of all Dementia
All Hail the King! So says Partly the Positive, Queen of all the Perkulators.

[finabair.livejournal.com]

Are you writing? You'd better be writing...or sleeping. Sleeping's OK if you're not writing.

(Yeah, I know, I'm supposed to be sleeping. I'm heading back to bed...after this...)

And I've decided you ARE coming down here, regardless of date changes. We'll figure out moving my brother as we need to; no sense in worrying over what's probably only one day of the planned visit. (Also, if he really does need this help on Halloween, I might just wear my Jedi robes and spend the day commanding things to move on their own, then insist I've contracted some rare disease that's mucked up my midichlorians for the day. You've GOT to be here to see that, right?)

[partly.livejournal.com]

I really want to come down the only problem is that is now over Halloween and Myr, I think, had plans. I'm thinking that she'd rather visit you, but.... *sigh*

Life is always complicated.

We'll let you know for sure very soon.