Saturday, March 21, 2015

Probably.

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A long time waking, at a restful pace.  Still, it worked well enough.  I did a bit of research regarding confession.  The sins I know, the procedure is still... well...  As with all things, practice will lead closer to perfection.  Still, a small printout of what I should do, and expect.  As I was about to take a shower, then a bath, a call.  My friend figured out some technical difficulties, and just wanted to share the good/bad news.  Bad because it will take some parts, good because the problems are that simple... probably.  Probably?  Probably.  One never knows for sure, even when things seem to be fixed and working as we think they should.  Trust is needed, but trust in anything of flesh is... should be a... ginger thing.  Still, that is what we have, and it is what it is.

After that call, and setting up for a general plan for a shoot, cook, and eat day, I decided to attempt to phone my mother.  She has been busy, or hiding, or such.  I know, being tired, and having someone call so often anyway, makes it more difficult to reach out.  She is slowing, and yet trying to fill her time more than ever.  Sounds familiar.  She didn't answer.  I'll try another time.

Now, a shower.  No time for a bath as well.  Baths take a long time for some reason.  While I don't relax as women seem to do, I do lose track of time.  I am, after all, trying to soak, literally.  And I spend time scrubbing my feet with pumice, and using the salts to scrub elbows, knees, and the face.  So I don't really rest in there, much.  A shower is all I have time to do, which is just fine.  I printed out a sheet, sans sins...  I have those in my mind, and only for father's ear.  That's how it goes.  I really need to do a more versed study regarding sin.  And learn those sins well enough to, perhaps, more certainly see what, how, and when, something is a sin.  Is anger a sin?  Only if it is unjust, and perhaps even more.  Just anger is blessed.  Defining which is which is a scholarly pursuit, though often one knows.  Still... just to define these things a bit more surely would be good.

Right.  Best get going.  I could still lose time and miss.  That is always possible.  It is a horrible thing, but, for me, a simple reality I have to endure, be humbled by and through.  I am going to make an attempt at... figuring my way past it, today, this time.  It's almost luck, with great effort, and some other things.  Later.

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Dry run.  Somewhere, somehow, I just took too long.  I know how long it takes, roughly.  I know, from dozens of dry runs, even pushing it, even on good days when traffic is light and the lights are with me, how long it takes.  I've missed often enough to know.  Next Saturday I will try again.  Everything should be pretty much set up for another attempt.  If that fails, it will be... a while, probably.  The simple, but devastatingly humbling, nature of failure... makes it so that I try a few times and then drift.  If nothing else, I sort of lose focus on things.  My doctors know this as well as professors, and past women types.  Next week.  I can only push just so hard, and only move so fast.  Sometimes.  Other times all you will see is a blur.  Not this time.

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