PolyDad (polydad) wrote,
PolyDad
polydad

Done with work, showered, and I'll get dressed soon and go be useful. Figured I'd say hi to the humans, first. And the rest of y'all, too.

Got my letter sent off to my landlady about midnight last night; found a response from her in my snailmail box when I got back from work. I figure to put off reading it 'til noon; while it's *possible* it contains an apology and an agreement on terms, I rather doubt it. I hope to be surprised, but in the meantime I've got work to do.



Laundry
Write Case Information Statement for divorce attorney
Mail credit report to bankruptcy attorney
Write Gabe (#2 Son) about his dance career
Write Zack (#1 Son) about careers in general, and the Art of Living.
Get a haircut
Call DSI about a possible day job, which I might be needing soon.
Call Walden and find out if I'm admitted to grad school
Take Gabe to his dance class
Edit: Add Call MacCare about the laptop not booting
Fall down go boom.
(Does anyone know if it's possible, and if so, how, to have an *entry* be public, but have the LJ-cut be Friends Only?)



The thing I hate most about the Boosh Era is that the assumption that might makes right and money makes right have become endemic values in the popular culture. My landlady's a good example; she's an ex-civil-rights activist, and has a lifelong history of being on the side of the Little People until she became a landlady. Now, suddenly, everything is about "her" money, whether it's actually hers or not.

The problem of my own I most need to work on is the rage fits. I haven't *opened* the letter from the landlady; there's no need or reason to get upset about it before I know what it says, and I can't keep myself from pounding my head in anticipated frustration anyway. Breathing exercises work, but only for as long as I'm doing them, plus a minute or two if I keep 'em up long enough. I need to find a way to make the rage Not Happen.

And I need to go be useful. Encouragement would be appreciated; send pictures of dogs doing circus tricks if you've got any. Or pictures of yourself doing circus tricks, for that matter. Or a kind word, or a mixed salad.

best,

Joel. With raspberry vinaigrette dressing.
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