elegantwaste's Diaryland Diary

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coner

So, my kitten got spayed and is now wearing a cone. She runs into things, and is very very depressed and embarassed about her cone-wearing status. It probably doesn't help that J and I call her "Coney" and "Conehead" and "Laocoon" and "Coner".

Around the new year a few years ago, I got this horoscope that told me that, in seven years, my life would come into success and fruition. I cut that part out and stuck it on my desk, so that whenever I look at it, I know that seven years from NOW, it'll all happen. Of course, it's always seven years away.

Everybody talks to me like this Law School thing (it's in caps because it feels like it should be) is going to be the ticket to my success. And maybe it will be. Maybe I'll make money and be successful and pay off all my debts and buy a house and have kids with J and we'll home school them and work at home as much as possible, and we'll bring in the big bucks and we'll have a garden and a puppy as well as our kitties, Doryphoros and Coney, and I'll be satisfied and happy.

Or, maybe I'm just looking for another piece of paper to help define me and what I can do. Because school is one thing I'm damn good at, and my skills aren't always so applicable into the real world.

But who needs the real world.

I'm thinking about going on a Vipassana retreat, but I don't think I could take the silence. I get nervous in the silence.

3:48 p.m. - 2005-01-20

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