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Established some ma'at in the blue room: got drawers into dresser, got desk upright and against the wall, got floor accessible. With ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
teinedreugan's help, got shelves on desk.
Emptied and partially refilled dishwasher.
One load of laundry.
Moved the catalogued paperbacks from the shelves in the living room to the blue room. Moved the catalogued books on the floor of the living room on the living room shelves. Moved some boxes of books from the basement to the blue room for cataloguing/sorting purposes.
Determined that I really, really, really like Svadhinaopatika. Did some Warcraft questing.
Remembered to eat lunch. Ate leftovers.
Wrote some about depression. Brooded a fair amount about various things. Was extremely perturbed that Caitlín Matthews's discussion of the need for women to have space of their own for creative work seems to have been constructed without knowledge of Virginia Woolf; the phrase "a room of her own" was used. Emailed Dad to ask him to send me my copy of that book if he finds it around...
Thought a little about a fragmentary bit of poem. Suspect that I'll want to approach it as a pantoum.
Gashed a cuticle. Bruised the knuckles of the other hand.
Gave up on the goddamn ISP actually letting me post this. Went off to brood about depressive episodes and shower at some point and will see if this looks like it's worth posting when I return to poking at things.
teinedreugan's help, got shelves on desk.Emptied and partially refilled dishwasher.
One load of laundry.
Moved the catalogued paperbacks from the shelves in the living room to the blue room. Moved the catalogued books on the floor of the living room on the living room shelves. Moved some boxes of books from the basement to the blue room for cataloguing/sorting purposes.
Determined that I really, really, really like Svadhinaopatika. Did some Warcraft questing.
Remembered to eat lunch. Ate leftovers.
Wrote some about depression. Brooded a fair amount about various things. Was extremely perturbed that Caitlín Matthews's discussion of the need for women to have space of their own for creative work seems to have been constructed without knowledge of Virginia Woolf; the phrase "a room of her own" was used. Emailed Dad to ask him to send me my copy of that book if he finds it around...
Thought a little about a fragmentary bit of poem. Suspect that I'll want to approach it as a pantoum.
Gashed a cuticle. Bruised the knuckles of the other hand.
Gave up on the goddamn ISP actually letting me post this. Went off to brood about depressive episodes and shower at some point and will see if this looks like it's worth posting when I return to poking at things.
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