Eyes on the prize.

I've been reading. I missed out on a lot when I was locked in the dungeon for twenty five years, including lots of reading. Anyway, I've been reading Ayn Rand. Thea hates her - truly, it's hilarious, she can hardly even pronounce her name without spluttering. I'm not reading her just to piss Thea off, though that is fun too, but because I'm trying to understand the myth/ethic of work and service. It's been amazing. Also I've read Frank Moorehouse The Electrical Experiment, on the same quest. There were some amazing moments to be had in there too.

Work has been challenging, but good. I've been negotiating some pretty amazingly high level things like commission rate agreements and commercial relationships. Fancy stuff, you know, with tables and graphs. Pretty sure I should be getting paid a lot more to do this stuff but that's not news. It's been an opportunity. I still learn from it. That will have to do, for now.

I've been training a new volunteer and defending my workplace from the usual insulting and graceless criticism from ungrateful business members. I've been getting stuff sorted out so it will be easy for me to leave. Holidays!! Six more sleeps.

I don't know what kind of presence I'll have during our holidays (three weeks) - probably not out much. I dunno. Maybe I'll get to buy some work clothes or something in Hometown. Maybe I'll have something to see or do on my own too. I know there's going to be a lot of polly people wanting time out. It's their home town, really, rather than mine. I don't really know what home is. The mountain is the first place I came out, after my time in the dungeon. DP is a home. The mountain is a home. Gray is a home to me. Before that I guess I have the first eight years or so, only three of which were in Hometown. So most of my life has been elsewhere. Most of ~theirs~ has been there.

I didn't really get heaps of time with Mum, but I did get a bit. Gray even said my name. It was scary/nice. At work. He said "She's Trouble". I think my Mum must have remembered that when I was little/before dungeon I did get called that. I don't know if she recognised me. I guess not. I guess it doesn't really work like that, not in her wordy, conscious self, but then perhaps at some level, she did. I hope so. It was good to see her. She was a good mum. Now I'm crying. That's so strange. I'm too steady to cry, surely.

Thanks for reading.