16 Cents
Today has been good, and bad, and neither. I am confused and frustrated, I am amused and silly, I am overwhelmed, I am pleased, I am disappointed and irritable and sad. I am angry and content. All at the same time.
I haven't been working switchboard for most of the day (hence the recent lack of random journal entries about people phoning me), though I will be again starting Thursday. Never fear. Instead, I have been doing things for the tax department. I spent the better part of an hour trying to track down what happened to 16 cents. I figured it out, but by the end of it I was just willing to donate 16 cents to keep my sanity and just be done with it. I was starting to mutter: "16 cents? I bet there's a bloody 16 cents out in the parking lot right now. Searching the parking lot for spare change--that would be a more productive use of my time. Ow! Stupid staples."
I also figured out how to use an adding machine, and failed to explain to others how one adds a negative number.
Home again, I am packing. Avoiding packing. Packing. There is both too much stuff in here (I'll never be done in time!) and far too little stuff. I miss my books. My room looks pale and colourless without all those lovely books. Three-quarters of my clothes are gone, and some of the contents of my desk, and part of my stereo. I remain overwhelmed.
I will only be sleeping here for three more nights. This is my home, and it won't be mine anymore. This thought, above everything else, feels like it is slowly dragging me down.
New, Currently Unfit for Human Habitation House is still just that.
