Cleaned out a heap of mess in the basement. Progress in regards to my plans is to be noted, but still it’s a matter of redistributing stuff, moving to and fro and not really getting rid of anything, simply rearranging in preparation hereto. To the untrained eye I believe it would be hard to note the difference from day to day, but to yours truly belongs the knowledge how suddenly nine boxes have become eight, condensed, compressed. It relaxes me; sorting. I find I’ve become more generous as the years have passed, finding reserves of mercy I’ve not possessed just a few years back. Less stuff gets thrown out. Granted, my quarters are rahter more spacious, nowadays. ~~~ Girlfriend at some jobinterview put a straint on my journey home; sprinted from the bus which allowed me downtown after a heavily delayed train. Why the jogging, because the only one to look after our young one was Dennis, fresh back from his trip – paid by yours truly in his heavily deteriorated fiscal condition – to the North. But he had taken the task in stride, and she didn’t seem to mind much. He’s good with her, and she likes having him around. If only he’d see to his editing-duties in the same fashion, the movie would be done by now. But with his age – even younger than the written integer – comes a lack of discipline I have not ever harbored, thus am not able to appreciate, sts. ~~~ V; she fazes me sometimes. She worries about her lack of income, a concern I used to share but now haven’t the will to accomodate. Yet she also blatantly refuses to take on a job of noteworthy hours, alledgely on grounds of wanting to spend much time with Kirstine at the earliest part of her life. A magnificient thought, but of course it’s not the entire truth be told. I have a clear view of the motives behind her reasonings, but cannot even be bothered to describe them here, I haven’t the time for’t. Any more, i.e. I get so tired from the beat she brings her situation up. I’m at a loss at what to say or do, I cannot even find it to be concerned on my own behalf. I try at best to cover my end of the deal, about this house and the bills that come with it. Meanwhile wishing she’s grow out of the conflicts which have her fleeing from responsibility, from herself, in life. It’s not for me to alleviate the pressure she feels. I have tried for five years running; it has drained me of strenght again and again, and as a matter of survival I’ve become immune to her sufferings. It’s rather horrible, isn’t it. Yet it’s the preservation of our relationship. Such a strange dilemma, bizarre as the most bizarre of oxymorons would go. I simply ask, whatever she should elect to do, to be informed so that I might plot our lives accordintly. A telling sign, pondering solely practical measure. But that’s how it has come to be, and I’m only allowing one vaguely emotional chord when I say this, that I’m so damn sorry it has come to this. Will be interesting to learn how she will fare. See, there? Practical considerations take charge, near immediately. ~~~ Tomorrow Tuesday. Will utilize my personal computer to work from home, a welcome option. Have taken the chance whenever it occured, and it’s a timesaver for sure. Am hoping for a quiet day.