filenames, journal solution, rarity of Ming, damn good popcorn, what is a monster

I think it’s funny, how people name files.  Newsletterfinal or newsletterfinalfinal or newsletteractualfinal.  Old school people who were saving files before there could be spaces, still not using spaces.  Yep, that’s me.

I asked Ming to help with with a creative solution to a difficulty I have of too many journals for different purposes.  Regular journal with daily self-chitchat, ideas lists, day plans, and notes from Las Vegas Catholic Worker weekly meetings.  Dream journal I’ve had going for years.  Gardening journal which I’m now also using for the permaculture course I’m doing.  There’s a journal where I write prayers.  Then a guided journal that asks me questions that I was given as a gift.  A journal for a relationship skills workbook I’m reading.  I was about to start another journal for this online creative class just joined–then I was like, holy shit, I have seven journals going.  This is going to be heavy.

Honestly, there are other journals I’m not even mentioning.  I started a restaurant journal that I stopped using.  I have a religious one.  I have a health log, but I do that one in a googledoc.

We figured out I could combine my regular journal with my creativity journal because my whole life is creative.  I don’t think it needs to be separate.   What do you think?

We spent six hours in the Emergency Room today.  They don’t know what’s wrong with me, which is good and bad.  The ruled out all the obvious suspects.  Congratulations, you have a special problem.  Afterward, I told Ming, At least they didn’t say it was just anxiety.  I’m glad my heart is ok–glad to be able to trust it.

The last doctor we saw, Ming recognized from last time.  The weird thing is, the doctor recognized us too!  He must have seen thousands of patients since February!  Weird, isn’t it.  He mentioned the rarity of long-haired Asians.

This popcorn is so damn good.  I dish myself a plate of it, close up the bag, eat the whole plate of popcorn, think I want more, open the bag again, pour another plateful, eat all that joyfully.  Think I want more and then say, Laura-Marie, please be reasonable.  Resist the third serving.

“I’m going to get the water bottle.  If I don’t come back…”  Something about foxes or wolves.

“The driveway jackals,” I said.

“I thought there was something else.”

“Dingos?”

“Something that starts with a c.”

“Coyotes?”

“Something your mom said, to protect you…”

“Cucuy!  She and her sister were protecting each other.  That’s not an animal.  That’s just a monster.”

I’m thinking now, what is a monster.  I think it’s a person who went awry.