Not The Knobs

When this dries (and I think it already has), AW will screw it onto the wall in my little working room so that I can hang my bags.  Fortunately, we still had half a can of pistache green.  After he's done and I finish cleaning the room, I'll sandpaper the doorframe in the shed at the front, which is attached to the main house, and then I'll be painting that as well with what's left in the can.  We will eventually be replacing the door there, but no idea when.

Caught an advert on FB today announcing a vacancy at the provincial archives.  Phoned right away and explained that I was interested but have no background in archive work except for my own research.  No problem, they're not looking for a professional archivist, merely someone who can run from one department to another.  I think I can manage that!  Mailed my CV right after the call.  It would be nice if I got the job.  They need someone ASAP and only for 2.5 days a week, perhaps for a year, so there'll still be some room the rest of the week for a part-time teaching contract, if I find one.

Kitchen duties, gaming, genealogy work, and some sports watching -- The Netherlands are now world champions in women's waterpolo!  Thankful for an easy day.  Another weight off my shoulders after the reflections of the past week.  Some readers are wondering why I say that I have a psych disability.  Well, that is because I would like to be honest about myself and admit to myself that I have one.  Because I do have one -- the result of trauma.  But shouldn't it have healed by now?  My answer to that is -- if you lose a leg, do you grow it back?  There are such things as protheses, but I haven't yet heard of protheses for missing chunks in the psych.  No need for pity or self-pity here.  Trauma like what I have does not heal.  One learns to carry it forward, which is what I've been doing all this time anyway.  It can't be 'removed' or 'scrubbed away', and it doesn't help to ignore it or deny that it's there.  It's part of the Ellaphant now and she can best live with herself when she learns to love that part of herself as well.  Hopefully this explains things?  I'm actually smiling as I type this.  It's not a 'pretend smile'.  I am really feeling better.

Unfortunately for Sinead, life became too heavy.  May she rest in peace.