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May. 20th, 2016
honestly I'm in terrible shape today. I shouldn't be - work's been going really well, until September I'm going to be writing essays about literature and the supernatural, which is amazing - I've got an Andersen story this week, Garth Nix's Sabriel (!) for next - and ever since the weather turned the afterschool childcare work I've been doing has gone from kinda heavy to just delightful -
but I also can't stop crying, and i had an awful punitive dream last night - I wonder if the reason why I hate Dickens so much is that my superego can be distressingly Dickensian, all "let me show you visions of that thing you want so that you can see how you would fuck it up to the harm of innocents." shit. and everything is rubbing me the wrong way; my head aches, my heart aches, my eyes ache. Yesterday morning I heard the mom who lives in the other part of my house spanking her little girl, and the poor baby was crying, and I just about hyperventilated out of my skin.
but I also can't stop crying, and i had an awful punitive dream last night - I wonder if the reason why I hate Dickens so much is that my superego can be distressingly Dickensian, all "let me show you visions of that thing you want so that you can see how you would fuck it up to the harm of innocents." shit. and everything is rubbing me the wrong way; my head aches, my heart aches, my eyes ache. Yesterday morning I heard the mom who lives in the other part of my house spanking her little girl, and the poor baby was crying, and I just about hyperventilated out of my skin.