e-mail etiquette

I feel so inefficient, and I'm terribly angry that my boss did not bother to e-mail me until this morning to tell me i don't have work this week; i drove down from Saddle Brook to Princeton this morning for training. sigh. no matter, i'm going to drive back home later today, set up a reclusive thicket in the backporch room and read the sixth Harry Potter (I've spent the last two days reading the Order of the Phoniex). I don't mind being a little behind in the series. I prefer it actually, as i feel i manage to avoid some of the hype surrounding its completion, and besides, "slow and steady wins the race," right? I love illusions to turtles. One of today's themes at work was "Frogs and Turtles," but I was disappointed to find many more frog activities in the lesson plan; i love turtles.

I'm glad I've finally retrieved my taste for reading again. I had been quite worried for a while that last semester's load had burnt me beyond repair.

I drew a couple sketches of the children in class today. One of them came out relatively decent, given the circumstances; she was moving all over the place.

Me mum cut my hair again while I was home. It's really short :-)

I hate to leave Kate alone in NB for the rest of the week, but I'm far too sad to say in this room. I handle my sadness better at home, particularly in the backroom, which is painted a soft yellow and lined with sun-windows on three sides. Sunlight and yellows definitely work to improve my mood. I love yellows and the impression they leave on me. It always amazes me how effective colors are at communicating expression and emotion.

I was wholely unable to socialize yesterday while visiting my aunt, and it made me wonder if i've ever really had the ability. I don't think I've ever really spoken what's on my mind, though I believe there was a time in my life I was much better at bullshitting interactios with people. I've always enjoyed solitude much more than crowds, though I've been told I'm a fairly good actress. Ah, but I loved that, acting on stage. Loved. and was pretty good. But plays are easier than speaking your mind. I've always been comfortable conveying what is on other people's minds through analysis and acting and so forth...but I can not speak my own freely, ever. I'm tired of dwelling neurotically on my insecurities.

I hope Kate and I can find tenants before we leave for Wisconsin. I hope I do not completely break down.

I have always managed to have too much hope, but hardly any faith. I think I function on cycles of disbelief and disappointment. Perhaps this explains the chronic sadness that weighs heavily on my stomach.