Saturday, April 02, 2005


I wake up at 1:30 a.m. and finish a novel and start another. As I start chapter three I pause and try to remember what the novel I just finished was about. When I get that sorted out in my head, --it takes a few minutes cuz I have it mixed up with that other novel I was trying to read about transplanting the fetuses into the Supreme Court Justices that stunk so bad, the novel, not the justices--I have to remember, in order all the verses to "The Last Time I Saw Richard". And this is one of those times that I am probably not going to get back to sleep.

I really have to call and get my Welbutrin Prescription increased.

I am so worried about my granddaughter. I have no idea what to do about it except worry. Her paternal grandmother is institutionalized with schizophrenia, and I fear that it is in her future. She makes these weird little snake noises to comfort herself, and it drives me right up the wall, chilling my heart at the same time. She wears these weird clothes to hide herself, and she is so beautiful and darling, and unwilling to deal with her cuteness. And I reprimand myself for still thinking that being beautiful and darling is the part that is important and what she should deal with. And the part about all the twins I know or have heard of, where one of them is either dead or has schizophrenia, is in the forefront of my mind all the time, afffecting everything I think or see or know about my cute little granddaughter. And having to be raised by this loon that is me cannot be good for her.

My mind is like one of those old desks with all the little cubby holes stuffed with pieces of paper, cuz that is how my information or knowledge is stored. I can sit for hours and try to sort it out, but it is an impossible job, and will never be anything but mishmash. So, this morning, I made a little progress on the cubby hole labeled Joni Mitchell songs.

I would much rather sleep.

And the dominant characteristic of this morning's glorious sunrise is that it shows up all the fingerprints on my deck windows. I will go wash those windows now and try not to think about whether or not snakes even make a noise.

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