4.3 KiB
| title | date | tags | draft | cover | |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| don’t you know that I’m crazy for you? (WN32) | 2025-09-14 |
|
false | https://cdn.cassie.ink/images/2025/wn/32.jpg |
Doing
This was the first full week of school, so naturally that consumed most of my time. Things are going well enough so far; I have one class that's really challenging, but the rest are smooth sailing.
I saw an optometrist for the first time in my life this week; I noticed last year that I was having trouble seeing the board at the front of my classroom toward the end of the day. I thought it might just be fatigue, but Joe encouraged me to make an appointment even so considering I've never been. Apparently I have crossed a new threshold of old age and now need readers. I've insisted for years that I want glasses, that I feel they suit my face and personality, but the moment the doctor asked me "Do you want someone to help you pick out glasses today?" I was immediately confronted with my hubris and regretted all previous comments. The pair I ordered haven't come in yet, so expect a further meltdown next week.
On the computer nerd front, I'm trying out Mailspring in lieu of Thunderbird (which is great, but the interface is clunky and ugly and I am a fundamentally vain person), and I subscribed to Obsidian Sync for my vaults with work notes and my (non-blog, creative, unpublishable) writing. Obsidian offers a remarkably generous educator discount (40%). I've also taken my first foray into Soulseek, for which I'm about thirty years late to the party.
Joe and I had a long conversation this week about some serious shit that isn't really appropriate to write about my little fucking blog, but the bit I do feel comfortable sharing here is my lifelong obsession with death and dying — not in a macabre true crime bullshit way, but in a perhaps obsessive and compulsive anxiety about my impending death and the ones of those I love. He has encouraged therapy; I said I would consider it for his sake. I believe he then encouraged me to also work on my lack of self-worth in therapy, too.
My volleyball rec league started back up, so I now have that and my Sunday morning runs as regular routines. I'm running a 5K in early November and feel more than prepared, endurance-wise (the Sunday runs are five to six miles), but I'd really like to push myself to improve on speed before it rolls around.
Reading
I finished All Boys Aren't Blue by George M. Johnson at last. I think I need a break from young adult literature for a while — Perdido Street Station was next on my list, but a student teased me about never having finished Villette, so I'm tempted to give it another shot.
Watching
I've kept on with Downton Abbey on and off; it's become my folding laundry show. I'm now almost finished with the last season. It's remained entertaining, though I wouldn't consider any of it good in an objective sense beyond the first season. I think there are a few storylines that are completely misguided and borderline intolerable (Bates and Anna, mostly, and Prince Kuragin), but I haven't been compelled to stop watching, which indicates something — if only my low standards for what I consume whilst folding underwear.
Listening
Plex had a data breach that meant I had to change my password and do some reauthentication that I didn't get around to until the weekend, so I streamed a lot of music off the Bandcamp app when away from home — primarily EELS by Being Dead, which I first mentioned back in July and remain a great fan of.
A student of mine recommended that I listen to Tyler, The Creator, which I now feel obligated to do, though I think I know what the end result will be. He gave me three albums, and I think I'm going to start with CALL ME IF YOU GET LOST. More to come on that.
I also ripped a better quality version of ... A Better View of the Rising Moon by 1997, an album I really liked when I was 12, so I'm listening through that for the first time in probably over a decade. No detailed thoughts at the moment, and any that I could offer would be undoubtedly clouded by nostalgia. My best sweeping generalization is that it's not a bad album, but it's dated and kind of for children, which I no longer am. I need readers, after all.