CHILIGOAT

ACTUALLY

Today has been a surprisingly fine day.. So sunny, to begin with. I also got to work over at the institute, which is always such an indulgence. The smell of the labs is a mix of dusted silicone gloves and hot glass, the hum of the vacuum hoods and the refrigerator; the proximity to my father’s office and the peculiar smell of him therein - paper paper paper. I was calibrating pipettes (yes, the eight something ones out of the 150 that I checked last I was there) and putting new elastic on the fifteen-year old goggles they use over there. It was like being handed a box of old socks. Fantastic. Good work though; I had so much fun I forgot to have lunch. Short day, ending at three in the afternoon. Long, sunny walk home.

Bobby’s mum sent them money for a treat. We had early supper at four: sushi in the park, spying on all the beautiful babies people are bring out with them, and weeping messily for one of our own. Then we terrorised the cats by bringing them along outside, in their harnesses. It’s like walking angry, legless poops. Not even joking.

Bruce is getting.. so much love. It’s flattering. It’s so nice to be appreciated for the one minute skill you have, even when it’s just imagination. Been working on both Sweet Gemini and The Mute Lark scripts, but writing is still a mighty obstacle to climb. You spend hours to brainfart out the smallest little paragraph, then give up, and write a 2300 word roleplaying post like it’s nothing. A fickle mistress, this summer’s muse.

And last, a bloke out of my class this spring ran into me - literally - as I was walking across the bridge, and pulled me over, and hugged me before I could even remember his name. And we started talking. He was so elated to see me - we hardly exchanged more than a couple of words in class because we were both rather serious about the class - and talked endless streams as if we’d known each other for years and we discussed psychology and transsexualism and Buck Angel’s gorgeous porn right there on the street. It was a mighty sensation. He gave me his number and demanded I call him for coffee, for lunch, for anything. I have never been so swept away in my life.

So now it’s just me and Sixten in a surprisingly tight snuggle, battling dehydration-induced anxiety in the sweet semi-darkness and listening to the cleaning truck down the street.

I haven’t felt this at peace since we moved in here. Everything is a stressful mess, but today was a very good day indeed. And I am so thankful for it.