December 7th, 2013.

December 7th, 2013.

December. Two storms have thrown the yard fence to the ground and it ain’t coming up until spring, that’s for damn sure. Haven’t sprung for winter tires – don’t feel as if we can afford them. Hope there won’t be much snow, recall such winters, too.

Working on the expansion of N’s room. Progresses alright, given the few hours I have available. All too few, as always the case. V frets when I bring just a tiny fraction of dust about in the air. Dammit, it’s tearing down one wall and bringing up another – how the fuck am I to avoid dust. Ridiculous.

Have brought about a total halt to all extra work. Well apart from the HK thing, which Lars Huge offered again this year – a thankful repeat of a task, easy money. There’s no time for those things, and just writing this I’m wondering how I made the time back then. Now the new works is becoming routine, with all that it involves in commuting, the hours are draining away. Also I’ve taken to sleeping for eight hours whenever possible. Still right tired sometimes in the mornings, though. General lack hereof, spawned over the course of the last half decade? Possibly.

I could take more time if I wanted to. But I’m apparently content with being bored. That’s right, I’ve at times felt bored of late: with not enough time at the ready to be able to commit to grander schemes, and apparently not enough aptitude to get even some of the smaller ones split up into manageable tasks. I suppose I’m content to let the days slip on by, just this now? I don’t really feel one way or the other about it. Maybe it’s simply just settling in at the new job.

Put up the Christmas tree and it’s a big one this year.

Great to see Dennis again, stopping by. And this next week will drop by Rasmus, talk and see a movie. If I’m not doing a hobby or work or tending to the family, I’m at least tending to my friends. Will pat myself on the back for keeping priorities straight, there.

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