Andare, Partire, Tornare

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wilful suspension of disbelief

Was feeling poopy yesterday, so I stayed home from work. Ended up going over to mom's house to be fed lunch and do some word-processing for her...she can't even turn on the computer by herself, let alone open up a program and start using it. I'm pretty sure that it's simply because she doesn't want to gain any job skills - if she did, then she'd not have a good excuse as to why she won't pick up at least a part time job. God forbid she have one less thing for people to feel sorry for her about. "My husband dragged me all over the world behind him and so I never was able to work and now I have no job skills because I haven't worked since 1970. Aren't I an object to be pitied?" Fucking crap.

Cherbear got formally accepted into her Oxford program! So now I'm ravenously jealous, and must stow away in her suitcase so I too can experience the charms of studying where Lord Peter Wimsey did.

I'm approaching 200 entries in this thing, ya know? I think for the 200th entry, I'll put up something basic, like 101 things you didn't know about Genibee, or something like that. Something that reveals my deep inner self - and won't take too much brain power to think up. Because, you know, I don't have much, and I can't be wasting it willy-nilly and higgldy-piggldy.

9:25 a.m. - 2002-04-25

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