This past year

The year is almost finished and a new one is about to begin. Sure I have resolutions floating around in my mind. The big question is if I'll commit to them and do anything tha I say I will. I sit here on Christmas day and I wish I could pick up the phone and call my dad. It has been almost two months since he passed away. It still stings and I want to cry when I think about him, but these tears dry and I go on. I still want my daddy. It is a need that I know will never leave me. It is an ache that will always be there. I can't replace him. When it comes to men and relationships, they can be replaced but a father can't. A child can't. A lover can, but no one can ever replace my dad.
I'm stalling and I need to get back to work. I always have more than I can handle to do, but I think I'm getting a grip on some of it. Today I'm going to do my math homework. It will be a start on it again. God please help me. I need a math fairy to come and land on my shoulder.
J

Why can't it be super easy?

OK, I want decisions to be easy. I want things to be like when I was a kid and could just flip a coin and make decisions. But, it isn't and I don't know what to do half the time. So, the question remains what do I want to do with the rest of my life? Do I want to be a "Clocking in Drone," or do I want to see what I'm capable of doing on my own? I find the idea of working for myself so appealing. Perhaps it's because I've been working for other people for 21 years of my life. Of course I work for myself so that I can earn money to live, but there just seems to be something so grinding on my nerves about having to live my life by a time clock. It isn't that I'm above this, but there is a slavery to it that just makes me want to grind my teeth until they burst into shards. I love writing. I always have. Ever since I wrote a story about a guy who started to freak out when his appliances came to life. I was in the second grade and Mrs. Carter loved it. Since then, I've loved hooking up words and trying to make things clearer to people. But there are billions of people out there that fancy themselves to be writers. I mean a ton of them. So how do I make myself any different? How can I stand out from this crowd and do something? I'm not a novelist, yet. I won't even raise that one, but I do enjoy other types of writing.
I need a few cheerleaders. That's what every girl needs in her life. Just a few people to stand on the sidelines to help me get up the confidence to do something other than what I'm doing. My husband isn't exactly a great cheerleader. In fact, he's that person in the crowd heckling me. Maybe he's not, but this is how I feel a lot of the time.
Need to get back to work.
Kisses.

It's Over

Last night my husband woke me up and gave me a kiss. It was a bit after midnight when he came into the bedroom. He didn't want to "get it on." He came in to tell me that he had just received confirmation that he got his Master's!! Not only did he get his Master's but he received a distinction! I'm happy as can be and it just feels like something has shifted in our lives. I'm just happy it is over.
I've been doing a lot of writing lately. The type that is satisfying and makes me feel as if I'm moving forward. It isn't that I dislike the writing I do at work, it's just that I need to do more. I think that I have a sense of running out of time that drives me. I worry that I'm going to lose my mind like my father and end up having left nothing in the world. My writing may not be a great novel (YET), but it can't be totally taken out of the world. This is a true statement and one that gives me some sort of feeling of relief. I'm thirsty, but I don't know if I can sneak across the street and get a Diet Coke from McDonald's. I don't know what it is about the soda there, but it is my favorite. I need to quit drinking it, but next year. I think.
Oh, well. I need to get back to work. I've got my timer out and I'll do 15 minutes of everything. This is how I'll break my day down.
JCG

The Rule of 10 - 10 - 10

I am a fan of Oprah. I read her magazine and I watch her show on the occasional afternoon when I'm home from work or on Sunday night. This evening as Catherine was doing her homework, I read this fantastic article on this rule of 10-10-10. The author of the article came up with this guide to her life and decision making process that I'm thinking of incorporating in my life. Whenever faced with a major or minor decision in her life, she decided to ask herself three questions: What are the consequences of my decision in 10 minutes? In 10 months? And in 10 years? Such a simple concept but one that I think totally eludes most of us, myself included. Fear of having to look at these little snippets of our life even as close as 10 minutes can be rather daunting. I think that I stay stuck in several areas of my life because I am afraid of the possibility of what might happen. It's the inaction that keeps us marking time.
Right now I have things that need to be done. I have to think of the rule of 10 and either do it or choose to go to bed. In ten minutes, it won't make much of a difference. Ten months, it could possibly make a difference in my life, and in ten years it won't mean a dag on thing. So, I will clean my glasses, go grab a cup of tea and start at my work. All the other areas of my life, man am I being vague, will just have to wait for a while before I apply this rule. Baby steps! Baby steps!

Getting Real

I've started telling people about this blog but now I worry that I can't be real on it. It's one of those things where once you start telling the world about it, you can't discuss anyone in your life. I have thoughts and issues about people and things but if I start spouting off about there here, I'm afraid they will come back and bite me so royally on my ass that I'll be screaming for days. So, what's a girl to do? Do I make this a fake site and just have it here just so I can say I have a blog, or do I get real and forget about what anyone thinks? Since I'm not stupid, I'll do a bit of both. Self censorship is a bit of what it means to be an adult. I'm always telling my husband that he needs to learn to censor himself. He'll slip out with a curse word in front of our daughter and I want to throttle him, but he doesn't even realize it. Is it better to be natural or like Thumper's dad and say, "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all?" Hell if I know. I'm so confused at times that I wouldn't know my butt from a hole in the ground. I can't believe I just said that. That's one of those things my mother would say. She was always full of these little sayings. I'm going to compile them one day. One of my favorites was "He wouldn't know cat shit from apple butter." Apple butter is really cooked down and sweetened apples that you spread across toast. It does look like cat shit. She used to always say, "It's as cold as a witch's titty in a brass bra." How do you measure the temperature of a witch's titty in a brass bra? Where do you get brass bras? Perhaps it's a wican fashion statement. I don't know.
I miss my mother but I think of her and she's like fuel to my fire. She's the reason why I try to press on and do something with my life. I just don't want to end up like her. She's in her sixties and she's broke. She's miserable and she's unhappy with her life. I love her and I want to make her life comfortable, but I don't want to end up old and alone like her.
I'm debating going to the gym during lunch. I mean, if I go I'll feel great for the afternoon, but I won't take a nap. If I don't take a nap during lunch, I will be pooped tonight when Gordon comes home. I'll want to get in bed as soon as he comes home and I'll end up "neglecting" him. So, my sex life depends on if I want to do yoga or not. Oh, I'm sorry, "practice" yoga. I suck at it, but it will be great for my body. The yoga, not the sex. Well, actually they're both good for me. I'll just sweat during one of them and not the other. It's no ones business which one will make me sweat.
JC

Open Book

A few weeks ago, I decided to take the plunge and really pursue a career in copywriting. Well, I'm still working on it. Studying and trying to get to the point where I can put myself out there and not have a fear of rejection. I know people do it all the time. I see people in various stages of life going out there and doing things and now it is my turn.
I was stuck for a while. I was standing on the edge of this pool and I was just so scared. Scared that I'll drown. Oh, well, there's no going back now. I said it so I'll do it.
The past week has been one of those major growth ones. I realize that I'm 35 years old, but I feel a major shift in who I am as a person. I'm not getting super cosmic or anything, just waking up and being more aware of what I'm doing. What am I doing tonight? Well, after I get Catherine ready for bed and tuck her in, I'll sit down at my computer and do some work. I'll work on my copywriting course, do some homework for a math class I'm taking, and then work on writing out some goals. I'm wild and crazy tonight.

Stuck in a Time Warp

I am so living in the eighties. Right now on this Wednesday morning in 2006, I'm listening to Madonna sing "Get Into the Groove." My friend Tom and I used to joke about how one day we'd be singing "Like a Virgin" to our kids instead of songs like "Puff the Magic Dragon." We laughed back then sitting outside of Franklin Middle School in Columbus, Ohio, but I'll be damned if I didn't sing "Get Into the Groove" to Catherine just the other day. Will I move beyond this or will I forever be stuck in the heydays of the 80s? The 80s sucked for me and I don't even know why I even think of them. I was this fat, miserable kid with a love for French fries, sitting on my butt and daydreaming about what was to come without any action plan.
All right. I'm into action now. The only problem is that there are only a few hours in the day to do everything that I want to do. I sit here in this cubicle and my mind goes to thoughts of what I'd rather be doing instead of going over tests written by teachers and if I should have another Diet Coke.
I'm going to spend a few minutes working on my copywriting course this afternoon. I'm loving the process and feel so drawn to this type of writing. All right. Back to looking at another test.
JC

Sitting on the Fence

I have been working since I was 14 years old. My first job was at the Ohio State Fair. I sold toys at this little booth. From nearly Sun up until closing time, I flogged toys to people with money they wanted to throw away on cheap bits of plastic manufactured in China. I could give them a smile, allow them to play with the toy themselves and persuade them that their lives wouldn't be complete unless they had a cute penguin-going-up-the-stairs toy. The money I earned that summer was used to buy school clothes and other necessities. That was 21 years ago. Since then I've paid my own way in the world save for a brief two month period of collecting unemployment after leaving the phone sex company I worked at while in college. That period of time was more for the ability to say that I'm "on unemployment" than for anything else. Jobs have always been easy to come by. The work that I do now is very satisfying, but I'm sick to death of living my life based on a time clock. Tired of it. Hate it. Wanting out so bad that I can taste it. My job has been very good to me since it has provided me with money to live, a lot of experience and a group of people I like working with, but I hate working in a cubicle.
So, what am I going to do about it? Shall I go postal? Shall I walk out and hit the panic button on life? None of the above. I've decided that the time has come to put my "cock on the block" and start living the life I want versus just existing in one that doesn't fully satisfy me in terms of a career. I love my job, coworkers and boss, but I want to see what else I'm capable of. It feels like I have this BMW, but I've been driving at a Chevy Chevette speed.
I had business cards made up that actually say that I'm a writer on them. This is a first for me because it really implies that I have a career and a calling. Oh, it may not be noble or along the same lines as a priest or nun, but it is my calling. Hooking up words to form thoughts is the only thing that I enjoy doing. That pleasure of watching words put together to make a picture.
I signed up for a copywriting course some time ago. I did the reading and exercises and now I'm about to submit my first assignment. It's fun and rather exciting to try my hand at this. To be honest, I feel as if this is what I've been preparing to do forever. I write articles at an English teaching magazine now, but copywriting combines my love of selling (penguin toy or no penguin toy) with words. Being a freelance copywriter will also give me the chance to have more time to do the other writing that I love for magazines. I feel as if finally it is all coming together. It sure as heck took forever for me to figure it out but well worth the wait. Off to write some tests.
J

ADD Rocks!

I'm at work here in the heart/liver of Taipei. The air condition is on full blast which is fine because I don't think I could handle the 97 degree heat any other way. I should be working and writing tests, but every time I look at the screen to start writing, my eye does this little spasm thing and I start thinking of what else I should be doing. More like what else I'd prefer to be doing. I'm working on an article for an outside magazine and the due date is six day away. I've interviewed a few people, arranged for a couple more and now I'm just trying to put it all together. I'm taking next Monday afternoon off to do some of the work and I'll also go out this weekend and get even more of it done. This will be my first official outside writing job that pays. No, that's wrong. I've done others but this will be a nice one that I've been wanting to write for a while. It's on giving birth to a child here in Taipei.
Tonight my daughter is having a performance at school. It will be a horrendous event, with kids hopping around a stage, but she'll enjoy it and pass out later in the afternoon. I made the mistake of parking at the lot instead of taking the bus today. I'll pay through the teeth this evening, but I won't have to carry a tired child, my bags, and possibly groceries on the bus and into my car. I'm trying to convince myself that I did the right thing. It's not working.
OK, I'm going to do my work for the next 45 minutes without stopping. Here I go.

Crossed Over to the White Side

For the past few months I've been obsessed with my new Macs. We bought a Mac Mini for the house and I kicked my stinky, old Acer Travelmate to the curb in favor of a Macbook. I'm in love. I love the way they feel, look, and run. In the process of my little romance, I tried to join the world of the Mac blog, but that was rather pointless. It's not like I was looking for an audience, but to even look at my own blog I'd have to join and have a membership. At $60 bucks a year, I figured maybe not. Besides, the frequency at which I do this is just so lame that I couldn't justify the expense.
I'm getting my daughter to bed and thinking that I'm feeling an earthquake. It's probably just fatigue setting in. I'm tired, but I feel such a need to do so much. There is never enough time to get all of my life accomplished. I'm afraid of losing it and missing out on something. When I was a kid I hated to sleep because I was afraid that something would happen without me. I feel the same way now and I'm 35.

The World's Laziest Blogger

It is Saturday night/ Sunday morning. My daughter's in bed and I'm sitting here trying to figure out my next step in life. Sounds so lame, but it's true. I'm 34, married, a daughter and still trying to keep my head above water. Perhaps this is what life is all about.
I'm a horrible daughter. I haven't called my mother in over a month. During this time, I found out that she lost the vision in one of her eyes. She had surgery on her eye prior to going blind. A few days after the operation, she was in a minor, minor car accident. A few days later, she went blind. I love my mother but I don't like her. I think that she's an opportunist and is taking advantage of someone's insurance policy. It sort of pisses me off. She's just so damn ghetto it isn't even funny. I know I should pick up the phone and call, but I don't know what to say. How can I act like I think that what she's doing is all right. To make matters even worse, my sister who was in the car (big ass SUV) with her, is now also in physical therapy. It's just really disturbing.
A week or so ago I went to the hospital and had an operation on my "girlfriend." I really love Taiwan. I know I pay health insurance, but the whole procedure cost NT$635! I could not believe it. In a million years, I never thought I'd have an operation, get totally knocked out and have it not cost me a fortune. I just hope it gets my system back on track. I had a miscarriage a few years back and my periods, sex drive, and baby making ability has been in the dumps. I know I should have given up on wanting another baby, but it is so damn hard. Even though I don't have the strongest marriage in the world, I don't want my daughter to be alone when I get old and die. I know I have one foot in the grave with that statement, but I would never want her to be alone if I end up like my dad. It's hard enough knowing that my father's going further and further away mentally, but to have to deal with this reality on my own would just be too much. I'm not saying that I'm going to end up like my dad, but if anything should happen Catherine doesn't need to be alone. So, I want to breed. Several people I love and care about think it would be so stupid of me to have another child with my husband. No matter what, I don't want to be one of those women with children by different daddies. It's just one of those things. My sister's kids have different fathers.
Speaking of marriage, I've started reading this book called The Surrendered Wife. What an awful title. I looked at it and thought "what type of shit is this?" Now I'm reading it and some of it makes sense. I'm a total nag and I've got to stop trying to control my husband every two seconds. I have to worry about my own ass.
I'm doing a copywriting course. Actually, I'm trying to teach myself about the business. I do hope I can do something and break out of the rut I'm in. I love my life, but I hate clocking in at my job. I hate having to look at the clock and check the time I can go home. Ideally, I'd like to work from home several days of the week. Next year! That's it. By my 36th birthday, I'm giving up working full time and I'm going to stay at home and work. I'm going to do it.
I'm off to bed. I really need to write more.

Contacts

I am now an adult. I finally have contacts. I've thought about getting them for years, but just figured that there wasn't really a point to it all. The other day when I cut off my hair, it finally hit me that my glasses were just too big for my face with short hair. I have them in right now and I can feel them. It's not that bad, but I just feel like a finger is in my eye and it's just sitting there. I wanted it to be one of those things where they were perfect as soon as I put them in, but that doesn't seem to be the case. I'll get used to them sooner or later.
I'm having one of those days when I just wish I could do everything. I know that this isn't possible, but I just have to focus and do what I can for today. I need to get a handle on this ADD thing. It sounds so silly, but it is really a problem of mine and I hope it gets better.
I'd better get downstairs. We're recording in a bit and I have to get ready.

Finding my way

I'm going through one of those periods when I'm wondering what in the world am I doing in Taiwan. I am seeing and doing the same things and I'm getting a bit bored. This can't be all there is to life. Maybe I'm going through a mid-life crisis. I don't think so, but that is really depressing because I don't want this to be the middle of my life because that would mean that I'll only live to be 70.
I saw a friend's baby today. I still have these moments when I'm just craving and longing to have another baby, but then I know that this wouldn't be a wise decision, nor can I physically get pregnant again. Sometimes I do feel sorry for myself. I was passing my OB/GYN and I wanted to stop in and ask her to help me again, but then I was smacked to my senses by the reality of my life.
The vacation is almost over and I'll be happy to get back to the routiness of my work week. I'll miss playing with Catherine and doing nothing most of the time, but I do like knowing what I'll do from hour to hour. I have a lot to do on Monday and then there's the bookfair starting next week.
I finally did it! I'm getting contacts. I never thought I'd be one of those vain people that didn't like wearing glasses, but I've finally crossed over and decided that I'm going to kiss them goodbye and say hello to contacts.
Boring life. Need a change.

Life's too short to wear uncomfortable shoes

I am in pain. My calves are killing me and I feel like beating my head against a wall. I am a woman and I love shoes. I love the way they look, the feel of them when I first put them on, the way they can complete your style, but damn they hurt. I have this really fantastic Bass ankle boots with a 3 1/2 inch heel. They look fantastic with jeans and I feel powerful when I'm walking around in them, but after twenty minutes they are the most uncomfortable things in the entire world. Why does this have to be? I beg to the goddess of shoes to give me the ability to wear shoes that look great without the pain that comes from wearing them.
I have funky toes. They are hideous. Not as bad as some of the toes I've seen sticking out of blue plastic 7-Eleven sandals here in Taiwan, but bad enough. First they are large. My big toes aren't cute. They have hair on them and have a dryness to them that no amount of lotion, butter, balm or spit will get rid of. Then there's this toe that my husband likes to call my hammer toe. It is my middle toe on my third foot. It is longer than the others and I think that it must be a throwback to some prehistoric ancestor. It's nasty and I've tried everything possible to make it lay flat. Right now, I can see a little bubble of it sticking up in my shoe. Yes, I'm grateful that I have feet, but oh I do wish they were beautiful.
So, I've made up my mind to never, ever where uncomfortable shoes as long as I live. Oh, that was a lie. I saw a pair of snakeskin (fake) boots that are just calling my name.

It's in the Jeans

It is Saturday night and I have things that I should be doing, but I need to get my mind and fingers flowing, so I'll start here. The house is a mess, Catherine has told me a little story of how she had a bad dream and is now in my bed, and Gordon is reading the paper. Life is pretty uneventful right now. My mother was in the hospital for two weeks and I didn't call her. A part of me feels really bad about this, but then the other part of me just doesn't really care. I don't know if this makes me cold, but I just don't feel genuine if I call her up and chat with her. It would just feel so fake. I mean just really, really fake. I don't know what to say to her. I honestly would love to shake her long distance, but that won't be possible. My sister summed it up perfectly the other day when she said that she loves her but she doesn't like her. Our mother goes to Club Med at least once a year. I'm not talking about the resort island thing, but to the hospital. She has been in there so many times that it isn't even funny. I'd say at least four years of her life have been spent in the hospital. Now, if I were to add doctor appointments to this, oh Lord! The number would be frickin incredible.
My sister Leslie told me that my dad is totally gone and that during her last visit to see him, he just said the same name over for thirty minutes. I still pray that something happens and that he'll snap out of it. I just read a really good article in Time magazine about dementia and what can be done to prevent it. Exercise is supposed to be the key and I'm certainly going to the gym on Monday. I do think I'll see my dad in the future and I'll get to tell him everything that has happened in my life.
I'm watching pictures of this beached whale in the UK and I want to scream!!! OK, children are going blind in Pakistan because they can't get medicine, but all this f#E%#@ money is being spent on something that could be sushi! Shit! I'm sick and disgusted!
I'm going to go and do what I have to do. I think I need a Diet Coke to get me started.
Whew.

Company Trip Blues

After a day and a half away from home, I felt like the Pope when I returned to the outskirts of Taipei. I actually wanted to kiss the ground. Maybe it's age. I have no idea, but traveling just totally sucks. Traveling with a group of Taiwanese coworkers - while I love them as friends and coworkers - is a nightmare. The trip was to a hot spring resort in Miaoli. Gordon couldn't come so Catherine and I went together. The first ten minutes were fantastic until the Kareoke book was passed about and two girls decided that now was the time (9:30 in the morning) to take up singing awful songs to a video of lovers running around Taipei. OK, the video playing on the TV sets on the bus were pretty funny. I kept thinking what a cool job it would be to be a girl or guy in these videos to the KTV songs. Most of them were shot in the 80s and are just tacky as hell, but it would be nice to put on my resume. So, they were singing for about an hour at a volume that couldn't go any lower. It was physically painful to listen to them sing.
First stop. Toilets. Second spot a really nice nursery that had a restaurant were our group had booked a reservation for the afternoon. I was going to eat there, but there was nothing that I could eat being served. Everything was either covered in a sweet sauce or not something that I eat. I had my food, so I just tucked into it. Catherine ate a bit, but this proved to be a bad thing but I'm getting ahead of myself.
Back on the bus we headed toward our next stop. A strawberry tourists trap. Around a large strawberry laughing teenagers took pictures of one another, people pretended that they were eating it, and I looked on with this totally jaded "What's the big deal?" look. Catherine had a good time. She ran around with my boss' granddaughter and played with gravel. I bought some strawberry filled eggroll cookies for my neighbors and Catherine's school. My coworkers ate deep-fried strawberries, chocolate covered ones and other things that actually made me physically sick to watch them eat. I'm not trying to act as if I'm superior just because I don't eat that stuff, but it is amazing how much people can put away in such a short period of time. I should know about this, but after almost four years of not being severely obese, it's hard to watch. They're normies around the food and can eat these things, but I still see it as being poison. This is a good thing on my part.
Back on the bus the world of strawberries didn't end at the big strawberry at the side of the road. Next stop: the strawberry field. This was my first time picking strawberries and it was pretty nice. A bunch of annoying teenagers gathered around Catherine and a part of me want to tell them to go play in traffic, but I can't seem to be rude. Catherine is cute (I'm her mother so I will always say this.) but these kids annoy the crap out of me. They act as if they've never seen a non-Chinese kid before. I think the next time this happens and they start saying how cute and wanting to take pictures with her, I'm going to run up to them and act as if it is so cool to see a Chinese person and that I want my picture taken with them. Maybe I'll even start touching their hair and slanting my eyes. I'm not a racist, but it is starting to really piss me off how some people just have no barriers.
Well, we picked strawberries and then got back on the bus. The hotel was about an hour away and was pretty nice. Catherine and I took a shower and just relaxed for a bit before heading down to dinner. Within minutes of getting down there, Catherine was so tired that she didn't eat a bite and wanted to go back up to the room. I attempted to get food that I could eat, but getting food that is abstinent isn't the easiest thing when no one really listens to what you're saying. So, we went upstairs, I ate my cheese, wheat germ, and salad and we went to bed. At ten o'clock Catherine started throwing up. All night long it didn't stop. I slept about three hours, got covered in puke and just wanted to cry because I hate seeing her in pain, but we made it through. The next morning she was a bit better, but by the afternoon she was week and started throwing up again on the way back. Yesterday was also Catherine's 5th birthday. I don't know if it was something she ate, but I'm presuming it was. During one of the stops when Catherine was sleeping in the bus, I went inside to heat up my food in the microwave of one of the restaurants. I got a firsthand look into the kitchen and was so totally disgusted that I don't think I'll ever eat out again. It wasn't just nasty, it was by far the most disgusting place I've ever seen. I almost sent a text message to my friend who was actually eating the food there to not even touch it. Next trip. I'm packing food for Catherine as well as myself.
OK, it's lunchtime and I'm starting to get a little hongry (yes, that's the spelling for how I'm feeling). After having a few days of meals that weren't that great, I'm having some of my favorites today.
Off me go.

Things I should do

I keep thinking about all of the things that I should do and my brain can't seem to settle on any one thing. It's that old ADD brain of mine. I say ADD, but I don't want to be one of those people that default to something outside of their own power that makes them do what they do. I'm a wee bit scatterbrained, but that's me. Back to the things that I have to do:
1. Finish out the day without getting caught writing this.
2. Get home and see if there's anything edible for my daughter to eat that requires little preparation. Should become a bit more local in
my ability to pick up something on the street for her to eat, but I can't.
3. Go to the gym and exercise the sides of my stomach because I hate the way the fat pops out of my jeans if I don't hike them up.
4. Clean out my fridge.
5. Learn to eat broccoli and cauliflower that used to have worms on it.
6. Stop surfing the net looking for things to do.
7. Wear these really cool boots even though they are too high and pose a risk to small children and the elderly. Finding my center of gravity is difficult, but my legs look a bit longer when I have them on.
8. Crochet more. I tried meditating, but I don't have the patience for this.
9. Stop fantasizing about a new PDA and just love the one I have.
10. Write back the people who email me.
11. Finish the work that I've started.
12. Organize my family photo albums. Do you combine families if you're married or do you keep them separate? I haven't the slightest idea.
13. Invest money in the stock market.
14. Stop buying stupid things I don't need.
15. Save money.
16. Teach Catherine to read.
I'll stop here. I have to finish my work before I leave. Long day. Little progress.
JCG