normal hours.

I was restless again last night… hit the sack at 10:30, and was uneasy, unfocused and unhappy. Bad mojo was in the air, I read part of the night, not absorbing any of it, absently hugging the kitty. Brain fried from the hellweek, I think. I need to get back into a sleep schedule.

anyhow, as I had hours and hours before work today, I got out, did my walk and donated blood… played with newt when I got home, until 11:30, when I left for work.

I just heard through the grapevine that we might be closed friday, and monday. Well, I’m not going to work the next two mondays… Christmas and New Years… sakes, no. It’ll be sweet to get Friday off, though… I’ll be able to get back to paces.

hellweek ends early….

7pm, and I’m home. hoohah! while I wait for an opening at AOK, I can start catching up with all the hullaballo I’ve been missing since a week ago…got my card from nashata today, and it’s quite spiffy… thanks kiddo! *hug*

I hope you’re all doing well, and that only good stuff has been happening… forgive me for being unable to stay up to date.

from my archives – 5 years ago today. 12/19/1995. – (one day, I’ll bring all my journals together.but for now, it’s cut and paste) I searched for the word ‘autistic’, and this was among what came up.

I once read an autobiographical book by an autistic woman who makes a living designing efficient USDA-approved slaughterhouses. I can’t remember the author -or- the title, but it was very interesting… she tackled the problem of why there were “good” slaughterhouses and “bad” slaughterhouses that cows going through the process would somehow react differently to even though, in some cases, they were designed almost exactly the same way.

Also, the author talked at length about what it’s like being autistic (every case is different, but there are some common things that are different between austistics and non-autistic people)– for instance, how her memory worked (almost like a slideshow) and interesting social experiences. For instance, it was only when she was fourteen at a friend’s party that she realized that a lot of social interaction was deeply affected by your emotions, and not just going along with the normal ‘mind your manners’ routines; and as of the writing of the book she still didn’t understand the concept of ‘love’.

-end snip.

I remember reading the book, and the name of both still eludes me. ah well.

Alfie: The Christmas Tree

by John Denver

Did you ever hear the story of the Christmas Tree
who just didn’t want to change the show
He liked living in the woods and playing with squirrels
He liked icicles and snow.

He liked wolves and eagles and grizzly bears
and critters and creatures that crawled
Why bugs were some of his very best friends
Spiders and ants and all.

Now that’s not to say that he ever looked down
on the vision of twinkling lights
Or on mirrored bubbles and peppermint canes
And a thousand other delights

And he often had dreams of tiny reindeer
and a jolly old man and a sleigh full of toys
and presents and wonderful things
And the story of Christmas Day

Oh, Alfie believed in Chrismas all right
He was full of Christmas cheer
All of each and every day
and all throughout the year

To him it was more than a special time
much more than a special day
It was more than a beautiful story
It was a special kind of way

You see, some folks have never heard a jingle bell ring
And they’ve never heard of Santa Claus
They’ve never heard the story of the son of God
And that made Alfie pause.

Did that mean that they’d never know of peace on earth
or the brotherhood of man
Or know how to love, or know how to give
If they can’t…no one can.

You see, life is a very special kind of thing
not just for a chosen few
But for each and every living breathing thing
Not just me and you

So in your Christmas prayers this year
Alfie asked me if I’d ask you
Say a prayer for the wind, and the water, and the wood
And those who live there, too.

last day? (I hope) of Hell Week.

Ideally, tomorrow will be a normal shift, if the guy makes it back from vacation in time.

Feeling better today, but I’m tired. I was expecting a good sleep, but it was not terribly restful. I got home about 1:30 am or so, came back in at 8:30. A shame that I’m not being paid for my efforts, but that’s the life of a salary man, I suppose. Mayhap there’ll be bonuses at my next job… or I can claim that I can’t work more than 10 hours a day due to spiritual reasons. (it certainly has been tossing water on my flame, lately…)

Really looking forward to next week… with any luck, it should be slow, and I can climb back aboard the writing boat more in-depth.

Vampires and Carnivores were threatening my cow intelligence network last night. I should give up Elsie… she’s making claims that I don’t imagine are true….

I miss Ornj… dreamed I was working with her on a project… some kind of wood working thing, roses and vines for a bigger object, benches of some sort. Will post the whole dream from my notebook tonight, if time allows.

Christmas Blues

Another sign that Scotto is part sissy-girl:

Weeps at Christmas songs. My face runneth over with tears. At a friggin’ muppet song… ‘Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas’. What a big baby.

Missing my dad…a lot. It hurts, a lot.
Stupid… I should be remembering the good times, and having a smile on my face, happy to have had so many. That’s not what’s happening… I’m remembering the good times, and realising there won’t be any more with him, ever.

It’s been over a decade… when does this shit get easier? It still creeps up on me, and hits like a ton of bricks.

The lines to the song… “let your heart be light, troubles will be miles away…”

*long, sad, sobbing sigh*

Tears are what are needed now, I guess… smiles will follow, as spring follows winter.

Welcome to my wall scrawls.