Self Reflection (and a little mindless blah blah)

There is something exciting (but also sad) about seeing each new post at the front of my blog. (sad because my very first one will keep receding further and further away, forgotten and last. )
I got my period today. This is the first time (since I started Circ) that I've worked the first day of my period. So far so good.

I spent two full days in the photo lab! Hell yeah. I could practically live there. What a toasty building! It's nice at first, coming in from the brutal winter cold to a veritable furnace. I spent the first day in my tank top, oui.

I think the scheduling process is a little bit rigid here, "at this hour these people are on the floor, and these people are in the back, at this hour so-and-so gets a break and so-and-so covers them..." Where is the spirit of potential? Needs flexibility. What if my body isn't ready to eat between the hours of one and two? I'm out of luck because I can't take a break after that, no coverage... As close as that may sound to bitching, I'm really not, it's sort of something that congealed for me just now. My arm is so soar! And it's my main arm, it's the photo lab, I have to lift these 20x24 inch trays of chemicals to pour them back in the bottles, one tight little ball of focused pain at the top of my arm right in the middle. I tried a tactic I learned form my massage therapist, pressing and holding down on the ball of tension. Worked like a charm at first, but it came back. Lifting the books triggers it every time, it's a bitch, gonna be eight hours of that. poop. I'm kind of a whiner. It's really not that bad, but I hate any kind of persistent discomfort.

I've been having troubling dreams. But one in particular last night is leaving me feeling sort of empty or lost, I can't quite capture what the sensation is. But I'm wondering "now where am I?" in my journey, in my life in my identity... Where am I? Just what is the state in there? What do I really know about myself? How much of a _me_ do I have? I'm suspecting not a lot.

I'm surprised, it's nearly three, which means I've made it through six hours of my shift without really noticing them. That is truly unprecedented. On top of having the first day of my period. No headache, I don't feel spent... Awesome.

I want to get some pink highlights in my hair, I have this vague curiosity about whether that will scandalize the library? Probably not. Pink highlights aren't that edgy. I might just look like a barbie, or worse a Brat's doll! Dear God... I'm still going to do it. Pink highlights! What a blast.

I need a new W-2 form. Or my income this year is going to bite me in the butt come tax time next year... I've been having some trouble locating one. Erg... One month without taxes coming out, not too painful... It's sure gonna hurt seeing taxes start coming out of my paychecks... (It didn't strike me until this moment that this is a perfect venue for diatribing... I could vent about all my political/govermental frustrations... If I ever feel so inclined. It happens)

Hmph. I just saw a man of "distinguished age" rush to get in front of a family to exit sooner. Not very impressive. Just big apes.

There is a young woman (my brothers age in fact) who I've only seen in here twice now, today for the second time. The first time she was sitting in the grass with her baby her back to me and everything about that moment made me feel like she was Kim. blond hair in a short pony tail, young mother, her aura or prescense... It made me sad, she is always in my heart, most often far off, but something like that brings her up to the surface. I think it's one of those pains that will always be there, no matter how distant it becomes... Things from the past that can not heal. Like Savannah, Lillian, and Jonathan. Arcosanti and Nick when he's distant. It's amazing the myriad of different feelings we host for all the moments, people and places in our life and past... For some people hurt, others have died to me and I harbor some anger towards them...Perhaps for their failures or indifference. Indifference is a sort of failure...