September 5th, 2001


(no subject)

Flat. I just feel really flat today. Depressed, mildly, tired, mildly. Reading Vernor Vinge's A Deepness in the Sky and really brain-deep into its intricacy and detail. Yum... detail. Lots of details that give a feel to an alien way of being. I really enjoy the way he's gotten the feeling of how aliens live, think, play down with human words that 'feel like' what they're supposed to represent. It's just a really solid book that requires detailed reading and lots of thinking.

My brain's still overloaded from the parental visit on top of work weirdnesses. The book takes me away from the bad grooves of old thought patterns. There are a lot of emotional flatnesses throughout my ... self. Just dark spots that are cold and dead and flat and without... color? warmth? no life or desire or...

There were times, when I was really into the technical stuff where I could really related to the Focused folks in the book. Where there was nothing but the problem, and real life was just a stupid waste of time. I can't do that anymore with Jet. And this odd in-between state of sometimes being able to focus on technical stuff and sometimes being dragged back on an interrupt to service Jet's needs I feel all torn in half, or, more simply, angry at both things that are requiring my attention, which isn't a good way to be.

Today I just didn't care, especially about work. Which isn't a terribly good thing given that control of the list of the things that 'we're going to do' happens on Friday. Not that the folks that are supposed to be giving me answers about stuff are actually showing up at all. I'm getting kind of dully angry at the folks that aren't stepping up to be asked about things.