I'm still around.
2021-03-12 03:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
reeI don't have much to say these days. I'm quiet and tired and basically okay, just... quiet and tired.
Words are hard. Communication is hard. I try to read my friends' social media and tap "like" so they know that I am around and I am pulling for them, for their happiness, but just trying to string some words together is usually too frustrating and ends with me canceling my unposted comment. I hope likes can be enough.
I am trying to pare down my ebook library to save some filespace and make it easier to back up. This goes against my squirrelly nature; normally I grab and stow absolutely everything that I can. I'm only just starting to rummage through folders and honestly ask myself, "Am I ever going to read this? Yeah? So I may as well start reading it now? Ugh, I'm not interested in this at all..." Some things I'm keeping (sooner or later I do think I'll come back to that collection of vampire stories; I generally do return to vampires) and some things I am not (mostly Victorian fiction that is public domain throughout the world, easily re-obtainable for free if I ever change my mind; and some nonfiction that should appeal to me but somehow doesn't quite).
It may be worth noting that, with me, organizing is generally a coping mechanism: something bothers me that I cannot control, but I can control this small, specific thing, so I am going to control the shit out of it. Pandemic (one South Dakota county had over 51% positive tests and what the what, WHAT). Insomnia. Parenting. Older parents. Everything.
Everything is kind of hard and I am slogging onward, one determined footstep at a time.
Words are hard. Communication is hard. I try to read my friends' social media and tap "like" so they know that I am around and I am pulling for them, for their happiness, but just trying to string some words together is usually too frustrating and ends with me canceling my unposted comment. I hope likes can be enough.
I am trying to pare down my ebook library to save some filespace and make it easier to back up. This goes against my squirrelly nature; normally I grab and stow absolutely everything that I can. I'm only just starting to rummage through folders and honestly ask myself, "Am I ever going to read this? Yeah? So I may as well start reading it now? Ugh, I'm not interested in this at all..." Some things I'm keeping (sooner or later I do think I'll come back to that collection of vampire stories; I generally do return to vampires) and some things I am not (mostly Victorian fiction that is public domain throughout the world, easily re-obtainable for free if I ever change my mind; and some nonfiction that should appeal to me but somehow doesn't quite).
It may be worth noting that, with me, organizing is generally a coping mechanism: something bothers me that I cannot control, but I can control this small, specific thing, so I am going to control the shit out of it. Pandemic (one South Dakota county had over 51% positive tests and what the what, WHAT). Insomnia. Parenting. Older parents. Everything.
Everything is kind of hard and I am slogging onward, one determined footstep at a time.
