Reading Journal

Go me! I got a chapter into "Dream Power" and then misplaced the book. Haven't seen it for a week. Haven't torn my life apart looking for it, either. I wanted to read "Indian Lawyer" before I loaned it to a friend I had mentioned it to. From what I remembered about the book, I thought he might have liked it. But it had been a while (5 years or so) since I had read it and wanted a refresher. So my plan was just to read that as my random.

I started reading it at the blood drive this morning. I got maybe 5 pages in and noticed that every page had had a swear word on it. Considering it begins with inmate conversations and most of them were of the tamer variety, I chose not let it stick. But then I saw the mother of all swear words and put the book back in my purse. I've gotten a lot more particular about what I read. Which will probably mean an impending purging of my library.

I'm just glad I read it before I loaned it to my friend, though. I'd hate to be responsible for exposing him to that language.

But that means I'm back to last week: Only my Old. Which I can't read right now because I'm not supposed to do any heavy lifting for 5 hours, and the hardbound complete works of Thomas Hardy would probably qualify. So I'm back to my shelves to pick out a Random. Maybe I should re-read "Coming of Age in Mississippi."

Writing Journal, Poetry

I've been having a lot of dreams lately. For about 3 weeks now. I mean, like, a lot. At least 10 a week. It's been exhausting, mentally speaking. And the vast majority of them are not pleasant. They aren't frightening or night terrors or anything-there are no hooded figures chasing me around at night-but I've been feeling panicked while dreaming. Like needing to leave a particular place or being concerned about someone else in the dream.

I'm used to my dreams having an impact on my life, but never at this frequency.
I'm also feeling a little stressed tonight, since I found out I have to put together a 16 page magazine/newspaper this week while going about my daily life.
So I decided to write a poem about it. I don't know why I chose the title "Hyperventilate," so if you've got a better one, feel free to shoot it at me.


Hyperventilate
I've been lost inside myself.
I don't know how I got here,
Or what purpose this trip is serving,
But I need to get out.
And fast!

My ears feel like they're
Caught in a vice grip.
My dreams are getting
To be too much.

There's not enough time in the day
For me to deal with their unpleasantness.
Why can't the panic attack me in waking hours?
Why must it assault me in my sleep,
When I am most powerless against it?

Why does my subconscious think it fair to
Heap this on me once a year?

Reading Journal

I finished Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance today while on the treadmill after work. It had some quoteables, but my interest in it fizzled out for the last 1/4 of the book. The last couple of chapters piqued me up again, but for the most part it was all in the beginning.

I'll try to pick out the quotes this week. I'll blog out my excuse on my "home blog." (Too lazy to insert a link.)

Time to shelve Zen and the Art of MM (after I quote it, of course) and move on to the New.
I wish it could be the 2010 BCR (which I've barely looked at, shamefully), but that leaves me without a purse book. So Diary of a Wimpy Kid it is. Maybe I'll have it finished by the time it hits redbox. Won't that be nice?