Hello, world

Man, this interface brings me back to livejournal. Suddenly I'm in 7th grade again and writing out performative blog entries for like three people, feeling like a pro hacker for making a text marquee in html and inserting a gif of a penguin slapping his buddy into the ice.

After writing in a physical journal for eight months, typing out my thoughts feels weird. Maybe I'd like it better if I had a mechanical keyboard again. Love that obnoxious clickity clacking. I just need some tactile stimulation, you know? Quarantine has me starved for sensations. Writing with a pen scratches that itch for me I suppose. I don't think I'll post anything here again because I have my trusty pen and notebook, but it's always fun to leave little time capsules for my future self, scattered here and there on the internet.

I don't know if I'm going to make this public. Once I start thinking of an audience, the juices just stop flowing. I guess I could write to future me, who's reading this probably because I got an email saying the site is shutting down and would you like to archive your entries before it implodes?

So hi. We're three months into the pandemic. The water stopped working two days ago and we're lugging buckets of water from the garden hose into the bathroom to wash. Of course it sucks, but I'm honestly amazed at how little water one actually needs to bathe or do the dishes. When it means a backbreaking walk to get that precious water, you make what you got last. The plumber's not available until next week, so I dunno how long this is gonna last. When the water comes back I'm never complaining about the water heater not working ever again. (Ok, maybe I will)

I went to the office today. Just the Monday zoom meeting with everyone who's working from home. Some clients are ghosting us and dodging billings, but there are new projects and clients coming in too. S talked to me about schematics for VLI so I'm doing those now. I just got into the groove and then it was time to go home, because we're on reduced hours and pay. This is weird, I don't want to talk about work on here. Never mind.

It's kinda neat to see the journal entries of other people. Sometimes I feel like I'm in a bubble with my little diary, so seeing other people doing the same thing is vindicating. Validating? I love reading memoirs and diaries of the most mundane shit, because the things people write about are just so wildly different from what I do. Like no, your experiences are not universal.

I remember now why I hate blogging. It feels like I have to go back and proofread this shit like an English paper I'm cramming at 3am. I'm constantly reading back to what I just wrote, and it's not helping. I'm not journaling, I'm putting on a performance. The medium is the message, and this isn't what I want to say. I'll stick to my pens and paper, thanks.

I hope you got a kick out of this, future me. I hope you're reading this in a post-covid world. A post-2020 world, really. Did we ever move past this dumpster fire on a rollercoaster of a year? Guess we don't have a choice. So it goes.