This weekend, Zoë’s been at another sleepover with her grandmother. I’ve missed her. Instead of the usual sigh of relief and enjoyment in the silence – revelry, really – I’ve been lonely. Usually when she’s gone, I play catch up, getting done all of the work I’ve let pile up, cleaning, shopping, socializing.
Honestly, I spend most of my time on twitter or masturbating.
Oops.
But this weekend is different.
As soon as I found out that my Internet service would be entirely dependant on me going outside to a coffee shop, where I’d have to spend money to use their free wifi, I prepared. I got everything done at home that I could, walked to the coffeeshop, sat down, took a sip of tea, and email my editors.
So, online work is done.
The new apartment is still clean, so there goes that idea.
I don’t have money for extraneous shopping, and everything we have/will need until payday is already spread out in too-big cupboards or chilling in the fridge.
Basically, I’m aimless, wondering where all of those long-term to-do items that usually plague me with under-efficiency-flavoured guilt are.
I’ve been reading. A lot. Because insomnia isn’t cured by simple fact of not having anything pressing to do.
I’ve read two and a half new books in the past two days, and re-read four. I’ve thought a lot, and schemed, and mentally manipulated some things. My brain buzzing, giving the following results:
I’m going vegan, as soon as the meat/dairy runs out. After reading Skinny Bitch, The Omnivore’s Dilemma, In Defense of Food
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We’ll be following a basic curriculum for Zoë’s education, but it won’t be coercively taught. She’ll get to decide what subject and how to learn – if we’re learning about numbers via counting cotton balls or numbers on a page in a grassy field – but we’ll attempt to follow the basic subject guidelines for math, linguistics and sciences. And then we’ll expand upon them. Curriculum doesn’t have to be set in stone lessons – they can be a launching pad for where to start. And we’re going to try to get her into this school, once she’s five.
***
I’m quitting my psychiatrist.
The last session with him was a clusterfuck of epic proportions, involving him telling me first that I need to accept that The Ex is a ‘drinking man’ and get back together with him so that Zoë can have a father figure in her life full time. Because I’m damaging her by being so stubborn. Then later, he said that I should restrict Zoë from seeing him at all, going against our current court-filed agreement. Then later, he told me that I should be dating, with an aim to find Zoë a new father.
Added to this that he recommended group therapy so as to talk me out of homeschooling, and suggested that I meet with a social worker so that they could convince me how permanently damaging homeschooling will be to her psyche.
***
I have nearly all of our reno plans for the new apartment mentally mapped. I’ve ripped pages out of magazines to create story boards. Paint tones have been chosen. Where shelves will go, planned. Window treatments, pictured. A way to attractively fit working, living, sleeping and dining spaces within one living room: nailed.
I just need more than $15 to my name.
