Opening Doors And All That

So here I am at my new blogging time, seeing as though I've got to be up from now on around six every morning. My first response is "ugh." But that is short-lived and followed closely with a "whew." I'm lucky to have found the job. And I'm very excited now as I sit staring my first day in the face. And I know one thing really well.

I can't iron. For the life of me, one ironed-out crease means the creation of three new wrinkles on the other side. And they're really in there, because, of course, I took great care in getting the first one out. And I refuse to pay to have my shirts pressed, so I'm gonna have to work this out. I'm buying starch tomorrow. And maybe an ironing board. Right now I'm using a towel and the desk in the living room. Not cool. I couldn't watch the Tony's tonight. We're having freaky-deaky electricity problems, which doesn't put my mind at ease about getting up in the morning. So I set the alarm on my phone, too. The bathroom, kitchen, and stairwell lights are all going in and out. As is my television and the electronics attached to that. Terrible. I did get to see half of the Fiddler performance, which was cool. Which made me want to see the show again. But I missed Nicole Kidman. Oh well. The Stepford Wives opens Friday. That will more than make up for it.

All kinds of thoughts went through my head this weekend about identity and the islands we all reside on as a result of the stifling nature that comes with it, but I haven't the energy to expand any further on that right now. I think I may need to think about it more. Or maybe I shouldn't so I can avoid getting depressed about it. I'll just keep reading memoirs.  And I'll just try to go to sleep. So I'm off to work tomorrow. Re-entering my career. I think it's about time. The school stint served its purpose. But then so do paychecks.