Thinking too much or just enough?

Day 13. With certainty.

Today I had a couple interesting, irrational reactions to things. They were bad/negative reactions, but I manged to understand them and eventually calm myself... with the help of some TLC from my wonderful, patient husband.

The first, I got upset when Reagan wanted to go swimming today (this was before bed Tuesday night, for swimming Wednesday). Part of it was being mildly jealous that he gets to go out of the house and *do (specific) things* where I don't because all the things I want to do are far away or cost more money than swimming. I could go with him when he goes to swim laps, but I'm not as strong of a swimmer, and I'd be pushing myself to keep going, to improve. That's a good thing in general, but I'm already pushing myself to improve drawing and yoga on a daily basis (and running on an every-other-day basis). Adding another physical, solitary uphill climb doesn't sound like good times to me.

That right there is a limitation to my self-challenge phase. I hypothesize that if I wasn't consciously trying to build my abilities in drawing and yoga/running, it would be no big deal to go swimming and keep up or not. It's as though I can only internally motivate myself to improve a small number of skills at a time.

The other odd reaction was more arbitrary and bizarre. I got uncomfortable when I saw Reagan with our digital camera, getting ready to do some "camwhoring" (his word). Objectively, I don't have a problem with this. After all, the camera is shared property... in the sense that we bought it after we were married for joint use. Small note: at least 90% of the pictures taken with said camera have been taken by me. There is no specific division of property between us, but it felt unprecedented for him to use something that's primarily my domain without him asking. Also, after remembering the camera had been in the bag I use as a purse, I felt as though my personal space had been invaded with no warning.

In general, I think it's a good thing that we still have some semblance of personal boundaries, that we haven't meshed into a single blob. Now that I think about it, things like this have happened before... usually with me getting particular about what items on my desk can leave my sight and for how long. :P Good to know it wasn't totally unprecedented.

Reagan assures me there are no hard feelings. :P

As far as actual productivity, I managed to close tabs of "study" material today (even though it was after noon) and jot down a few pages of notes, concepts to weave into my own storytelling later.


Lovers wearing cutoffs at the swimming hole
reading the classics in languages they don't
know and that they alone understand

---

somehow I know I made it to the
door and delivered the message
but here I still am, walking
an endless sidewalk to that
strange and crooked house

---

pile of dead woman (with no body)--
upon death a person's spirit
flows into their possessions
ultimate humiliation and terror
to die naked.

How pretentious. x) But, really, I write the notes in loose blocks on unlined paper in different directions so I can tell one thought from another. They often end up looking like strange flowcharts with arrows going from one place to another. I use my own conceptual shorthand in a few different places to remind myself of tropes and tones... those notes sound even less intellectual.

I'm also happy with the drawing I did today. Pencils aren't as scary as I made them out to be. You may see today's sketches tomorrow. *coy smile* These are from yesterday: