Hello, it's August, my own personal Lent. So far I've given up chattering, worrying, and feeling keen. I'm back on caffeine. It's good. This week has been busy, and that's good too. Up and down, and I only sleep when I mean it. Jackpot is in my apartment right now repairing my computer hinges with an old rusty hammer. Exciting! He's also going to take the whole thing apart and put it back together again, just because. I'm very happy about it.

Today is a lot of frantic broken up by lulls. It's the best way. My skirt feels like duck cloth. I don't know what duck cloth is, it's just something I read once and my mind worked out what it would feel like based entirely the way the word duck feels in my head. It's soft but stiff. Smoothly. I don't know, but I love this skirt. All it needs are pockets. All skirts need pockets.

I keep dreaming about animals. Last night I dreamt that there were finches flying around, and if I held my hand out they would land there, just like my bird used to. I held a note in my hand, and they would peck tiny holes in it, just like my bird used to. It was a nice kind of dream. Other times I dream about fish, deep down, but in water clear enough that I can see them from up high. Those are nice dreams too.

See, the caffeine is making my mind flit around. This morning I got all the way to the train in a daydream; I couldn't remember the steps on the way. I was listening to my messages under a tree, and then I was on the train. The Captain read a poem into my voicemail, and I have to admit it is the best message I've ever received. Possibly will ever receive. She didn't preface it, just launched right in, and closed with the title and author. It's the only kind of message I want from now on, to tell the truth.

Anyway.