Two weeks without having written. That’s kinda sad.

I’ve been wondering lately why I don’t write more “private” posts, ones written mainly for myself as diary entries, not initially exposed to the world, but selectively published after the fact. I think that I should do more of that, if only because it would get me to writing more often, and I think that writing’s important for self-awareness.

It’s been kinda crazy lately; until this week, work’s been extremely busy, but now I’m in a tiny lull that will go away in another few days, as I’m about to head to Houston for a week. [!] Work has its daily frustrations, things that make me glad that I don’t grow my hair out long—so I can’t easily pull it out, ya know? But it’s been good, even if, right now, I’m being nickled-and-dimed to death with all these teeny-tiny jobs while we wait for Shuttle to launch and things to start back through the system.

I got told today that I needed to take a vacation. Heh. Come on … I get asked for a number multiple times a day, and so I can spout it off with no problem: 70804.02.004.04.03.06. Easy.

Okay, not really.

I’d like that vacation, but I don’t know what I’d do with it.

House stuff is pretty fluid. It’s happening faster than I’d planned, in some ways, and while that’s cool, it’s also scary in that “I’m not ready for this” kind of way. I know it’s going to work out, but man … it’s all kinda nutty.

Hope things are good on your end, dear reader. Use the comment space to tell a story of your day or something … whatever you like.