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Language Log

Thursday, Sept. 10, 2020 - 11:02 a.m.

Making progress on converting the casita to studio. I find myself gripped with a sort of...rage isn’t the right word, I’m not really angry AT anyone, but...a strong panic-like resentment...at just how much crap my in-laws stuffed into every corner of the space. Boxes of Xmas decorations to supplement the Xmas decorations I already own too many of. Not one box. A couple boxes of decorations and ornaments plus special Xmas dishes plus an entire bin to decorate the rental house for my brother in law. And so many boxes of kids toys. Some good, some eh, some junk.

Anyway. It’s stressful because I have this simultaneous urge to chuck it all into the alley and to save it because what if I offend them and also it’s good new stuff? Morally reprehensible to get rid of good new stuff. It’s bad to have it but once you have it it’s wrong to give it away. My mother’s voice there. J is helping me through this or I would be paralyzed and unable to progress.

When it’s all been purged and the space is fully mine, I will feel so much better. I think I should finally paint the bedroom. Right now the walls are flat white, dirty and marked up, like they were when we moved in years ago. I’ll probably still just do white, but then I can hang art in there and stuff.

Did I say my mask finally arrived? My mask finally arrived. Creepy!

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