Thursday, April 15, 2010


My procrastination is catching up with me, and here I thought procrastination was a slow beast. I realized I was procrastinating in a dream last night. I haven't finished editing that damned workbook (I'm about halfway through) because I keep finding other things I've put off doing more interesting. In this dream I was explaining face-to-face to my current students why they haven't gotten their mentor's copies yet, making one excuse after another, when really, I just hadn't finished editing!

I suspect my day is planned with the red pen in hand. Plus my horoscope said to not do anything to "out there" today, whatever that is supposed to mean. So since editing isn't out there, just annoying and sometimes depressing (did I mention I edited and rewrote an entire 250 word page?), it's the chosen, critical, must-do daily deed.

"Smell is the weakest sense," said by a character upon walking into a charnel house (well, it was really a charnel trailer . . .) on a tv show I watched last night. Then he said something like, breathe normally through your nose and after a while you won't even notice the smell -- I believe that and I don't. I remember as a child going into a certain friend's house down the block and being hit by a wave of stale urine stench whenever the front door was opened. However, after being in the house a while, I couldn't smell the smell anymore, but my mother always knew where I'd been by the scent left on my clothes. On the other hand, being the only litter box cleaner-upper in the house, I can attest that no matter how many scoops are removed from the box, that smell lingers in the box's proximity. No getting used to that. I guess if I shoved my head into the opening of the litter box cave I'd get used to the smell after a while, but my cats would get really mad at me for hogging the john.

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