In a Funk
It's been a relatively long week and hence the lack of updates. Even though I've had nothing urgent or critical to do, I've felt remotely annoyed and stressed out all week. Normally, I'd look forward to the weekend to get some rest but I have two shoots this weekend, which generally means I'll be working my ass off and before I know it, it will be Monday again. And, as opposed to most normal companies, my place of business does not feel MLK day is an important enough holiday to observe. Good Friday? yes, absolutely. MLK day - no fucking way.

Thanks to the generous number of replies to my askme thread, I checked out twelve new books from the library. I gather some of them should be good. David has also generously lent me one so I am hoping I am set at least for the next few weeks. I am still in the blah zone for books, and feeling like there's too much mediocrity there compared to excellence but I guess that's the case by definition isn't it?

I find that when I am in this mood, I am always tired, constantly eating bad crap, unable to focus and/or function in a positive manner. I am impatient with people i love and frustrated at the drop of a hat. I often don't know how to get out of the funk either so I hide under the covers with a good book and pray it goes away sooner than later. I have two evening fun-events to go to next week and maybe they'll be what I needed all along.

Or maybe not. Who knows?

Observing and Learning
Now that he's a lot more mobile, David's behind me at all times. He watches me very closely and does whatever I do, right after I do it. This means that he's figured out how to open all of the cupboards and drawers in the house. He likes to pull on things until they come loose, and if they are stuck, he will pull and yell until he's mustered enough power to yank the item out of its location. It's almost like a cry of war, just as loud and piercing and very insistent. Thankfully, my mom had placed relatively harmless items in the lower cupboards in the kitchen so David often plays with the pots and pans or tupperware instead of glasses and plates. But he has discovered the trashcan and each time I throw something away, he walks over to the door, opens it and pulls the trashcan to look inside. I generally catch him moments before he tips it over to pick the item I threw out.