I considered observing a day of silence on all my social media tomorrow, but one of my kids pointed out that this really isn't over until after the 28th. Besides, I use twitter prolifically during my downer days, and it might not be prudent to stringently cut myself off out of decorum if I wind up having a really bad day. And if I disappear for the day anyway, well, there you go, day of silence.

Today a funny little trick happened, like a hug. I didn't catch it until this afternoon.

Ten years ago some interesting stuff happened for awhile to several people in the family after she passed on. One thing in particular that happened here the very first week was my computer abruptly saying "Goodbye" and waking me up from a nap as it suddenly logged itself off AOL, and within seconds my phone rang, and the call was from the school about my very sick kid. The timing was so precise, and it seemed so perfect after spending a year sitting up on the computer with her through sleepless nights while she was very sick.

This morning I had barely gotten started working on my laptop when it abruptly shut off. It doesn't normally do that. Today would have been her birthday. So my way of saying hi back to her is with a quote she was fond of, and a special smiley that she used. " How sweet to be an idiot and dip my brain in joy."

She was far from being an idiot. She liked taunting me with cute things she could make her pictures and text do in forums, and laughed when I asked how she did stuff on her little websites. She died before I ever found out her secrets. I had no clue how to do those things. One evening before I fell asleep I asked her to show me her secrets in a dream. I started having some fantastic dreams.

And then I started doing cool stuff on the computer. She is my mentor even still. Everything that I do should be good for people somehow. What she invented she did to escape the drudgery of living through pain and dealing with fear. Even when she was only a child she was already so very good at that. I've spent many years trying to reach a level of fun distraction that will never equal hers. I can't help sliding back into my drudgery. I know we all have a hard time with that.

One of my favorite quotes is from C.S. Lewis- "Has this world been so kind to you that you should leave with regret? There are better things ahead than any we leave behind." I believe that, but I want to do as much as I can before I have to be done here, even if being here sux.

This song gets me through a lot of hard stuff and makes me feel better. It's easy to forget day by day that there is more than this stuff we are stuck in, but every time I remember how quickly this part is flashing by me, it's much easier to focus back on what I want to get done.

Yesterday's post was too long. Today is power point.

 The best way to handle passing a gallstone is not to eat the junk for 2 weeks beforehand in the first place.

 I moved 400 pix off my phone yesterday. I plan to move at least 500 more today.

 It's been ten years this weekend (last birthday today, last day Monday) since my sister watched her oldest daughter die horribly in a lot of pain from severe swift complications in a big hospital.

 Scott and I are setting explosives in our bedroom before we go shopping for a new dresser.

 I'll let you guys know on twitter if I run into any spiders.

 I'm actually wide awake already at 5:45 a.m. but I wanted to use this cute little gif.

 And we start the morning with the laptop abruptly overheating and shutting down right after that last one because I didn't have the cooling table fan plugged in. I can see a quick trip in to the Geek Squad for a fan fixin in my future.

 Just filled the crockpot with pork roast and brats. Tonight is #scarysocial Pandorum on Chiller and #latenightmovie in chat with the gang. I love all you guys. But I love my best buddies the most. 

After mulling it around a bit, I'm thinking my best way to shave time around getting as much done as I want is to stop sleeping again, haha. All my best work has been done through years of severe insomnia. Seriously, though, it's been pretty sweet sleeping again, and I'm not going to wreck that. Too many years of 2-4 hours a night.

Scott's overtime is over. After months of being alone in this house around the clock and seeing Scott only two hours a day in the evenings most usually 6 days a week, he's underfoot pacing like a madman. Then suddenly he's gone somewhere, doing work for his parents or his daughter. Then he's suddenly underfoot again. In an age of cell phones and a multiplicity of communication medias, we're like two ships crashing over and over because communication is so poor. This morning he's going on and on about hunting turkeys this spring, which is fine except by the time season rolls around, other interruptions will be so entangled in his plans that it will be stressful just getting one day out to himself, and then interrupted with phone calls and texts from other people. You guys would laugh if I told you why he didn't get a deer last fall.

I didn't know for years into this marriage just how popular Scott is because I'm the one who never gets to see him. It wasn't until we went on vacation in 2007 that I found out just how many phone calls he gets. Every half hour during the entire trip, family and coworkers were calling him to ask where he was on the highway, chatting up where he should go, giving him driving advice, asking what we had been eating or bought or what our plans were. At the time it was a shock because I'd been waiting so patiently for years to get that time to ourselves, being next door to his parents and raising his step daughter and frequently seeing his ex-wife and all the overtime he worked, and so on. I'm so used to it now that I figure this is what celebrity couples must feel like, or public servant couples, or retail giant management couples, etc.

I grew up barely using a phone, and even with my phone on me 24/7 I rarely text or call anyone. It's a huge deal for me to be on public media allowing the world to watch what I'm doing all the time. I used to be an extremely private person. I made public blogs, but rarely talked about my real life, mostly stuck to Lexx and other interests. I had a previous facebook that finally got super restricted down to 3 people, and I even deleted that. After taking a year completely off the internet, I decided the best way to handle having to interact with people is just go completely public and let everyone see what I'm doing all the time, and that way I don't have to talk to people. I made Scott a twitter account so he could see what's going on here while he's at work. It's a good way not to have to write everything more than once.

This would be brilliant if it actually worked. If I want to see what other people are doing, I just look at their facebooks or blogs. I rarely comment because I'm usually multitasking like a bat outa hell and really don't have the time for one on one stuff. I don't expect people to drop what they're doing and answer my questions of 'how is your day' kind of stuff. If someone wants me to know something, they'll write it down somewhere, and if they REALLY want me to know something, they'll call or DM or something. At least I assume so. I've got most people who know me personally trained to not even bother unless it's life or death.

I easily write thousands of words a day. I use my personal blog as a sort of brain organization center and do brain warm ups before I hit the hard work where I have to stay focused. I blitz through twitter during little breaks and then pull my focus back. Once in awhile I remember to check other people's stuff and see how their days are going. I rarely answer DMs and PMs, really bad about not checking email, even don't see texts in a timely manner because I've got my phone muted. Despite the extravagant lengths I go to avoiding real time interaction, I get bombed several times a week with other people's epic fail dramas and traumas that impact my real life. The previous post is just one example out of a plethora.

Why am I saying all this? I am *this close* to going recluse again so I can WORK. I would like for my friends to remember I have family and for my family to remember I have a huge thing I'm trying to do and for Scott to remember that we're married.

One of these days I want to fly to Ireland. I'm keeping track of who is making it harder for me to reach this goal. I'm thinking about making a special dedication in my first book to the people "without whom this book would have been published two years sooner", or whatever. One of these days I might just make a few people famous and receive compensation for all the times I've stopped everything I'm doing to be there for them. I was observing to Scott last night that even if I were to find out I have cancer and one year left on this planet, I will never get back the time and care and compensation from other people that I've freely given to them because it's the right thing to do. They say live life like it's your last day or something. What if it is? Then I might not have much time left to do what *I* want to do.

I WANT TO GET BACK TO WORK.

Sometimes it takes a couple of days to wrap my head around something. I saw this one coming months ago, maybe even a year ago, but it's still a lot to take in when it looms on the horizon as a real thing. I married into a family with a reality show mentality (bet this one would get top ratings) and I'm not at all surprised that burrito and her mama might be moving in with us in a couple of months. Again. Because this time last year we had homeless pregnant mama living with us. I've lost count of the times she's moved in between. I could make a very credible movie of the week pitch right here, or I could move on with my day and get busy on my stuff again. Between the Xanga migration and this whole burrito adventure, my regular challenges are turning me into Super Pinky. Click this monstrosity for merch.

So if I seem a little off the mark lately interacting on twitter or whatevs, I'm feeling scattered again. Lotta things to take care of and plan and do. You other parents out there who aren't quite to the oh crap my child is popping gremlins now stage, don't worry, burritos are so cute by the time you get this old that you can't help turning into a sucker.

Time is ticking.