It is so easy for me to feel sorry for myself, some days. Days when it is rainy and windy and I forget little things (my magnetic winding bracelet, my hair thong) at home because I am so eager to leave my fluorescent eye-strainy basement to go downtown. The rain is blown sideways by the wind and there is no shelter. I read Julian Barnes on how ultramasculine chess players are & get depressed; Finch station is in a permanent state of repair...

...but then I should say this all started when I found out on Saturday at the library when I checked my email and lo and behold, but I had been dropped (due to language reasons only) for another nanny for a job I had only been to for one shift; a nice email, but still! I felt helpless and hapless and couldn't trust myself to do anything right the rest of the day, though I ate dinner and listened to the radio ("One Fine Morning" reminding me painfully of him, my longing increasing as the song went on...) and then going to sleep...

...but today, this afternoon, my mom & I went to the Trinity Book Sale and I found some things - Henry David Thoreau's Walden and Civil Disobedience, E. M. Delafield's Diary of a Provincial Lady, John Berger's To the Wedding and George Eliot's Scenes of Clerical Life. I checked other sections - Cooking, Humor, Travel, Psychology - but found nothing. My mom gave me a book to buy but - and this is odd - it wasn't rung up, and as their system is to do a tally on a machine and then take the tally to a clerk, my mom got her book for free - so we swineherded the Trinity Book Sale (I had no idea, and well, I didn't mind...)

...but yes, I do have a lot to do and so I am bound to get distracted...tomorrow is fairly straightforward though, and Tuesday I go to the British consulate...beyond that, before Friday, I'm not sure. I have jobs to apply for, obviously, but I may actually just rest for one day and read...in good light, this time...