...when you obsessively wash, fold and put away every last piece of dirty laundry in a 6 person household-even though it takes you three days of nonstop laundering and it will inevitably pile up again and again and again.

It's a never-ending story, but somehow I just needed something, some little, albeit meaningless thing to be DONE with, to be completely finished. If only for an hour or so.

Completion. There's something so satisfying about completing a task. Especially when it seems as though everything else in your life is unfinished, scattered, up in the air...

I remember reading a story about an abused woman who killed herself, with a gun, in her kitchen. Before she suicided, she scrubbed and mopped the heck out of the kitchen. That image stayed with me. This poor woman, so full of pain and suffering, carefully, thoroughly, cleaning her kitchen-making herself a spotless, shining place to die.

Hey, sorry for the doom and gloom. It's the third term blues, I guess. My whole class seems to be going through it. We had this big group bitch/counseling session about it in class tonight. We've been flip-flopped between way too many teachers this term and had all these unexpected changes in homework and new responsibilities laid on us-not to mention our lives outside of school going haywire, like Sams nasty ear infection this past week.

But I'm hanging in there, taking care of Sam, getting my garden planted slowly. I'm bummed I'm gonna miss the Seattle Tilth plant sale this weekend. It totally rocks and I usually get all my tomatoes and such there...But I've got an elective, Hawaiin massage, all weekend. Plus I promised I'd do reiki at this cool art performance thing Saturday night, and then monday I have to go to the morning class so I can go to aids education in the evening-and somehow in all that I need to do homework and study for the COMPREHENSIVE (as in covering the entire first three terms of learning) anatomy and physiology test coming up in a mere couple weeks. GAHHHHHHHHHH!

I'm freaking out! And Terra's not even here to share it with me.

But don't worry (any of you patient souls who have made it this far in my diatribe), I'm not gonna do anything too dramatic... My kitchen floor's not clean enough for that.