Elgan speaks
...and her words thunder across the land

No Chatty Cathy I

Saturday, Aug. 7, 2004
10:12 a.m.
I woke up several times close to morning with the urge to pee, and each time I repositioned myself and fell back to sleep. As a result, I had a very realistic dream in which I was immensely pregnant and in labour, which is something I have not experienced in 18 years. Not the pregnancy part, the labour. What is even stranger is that my own labour was chemically induced, and I didn�t have the luxury of counting minutes between contractions, so my dream could not have been based on personal experience. Even so, it was insistent enough that I finally got up and went to the bathroom, greeting the day which is once more cold and rain-filled.

It seems from my forays into the Diaryland chatroom that I have been picking up readers like burrs on a dog. While this is actually kind of cool, I am absolutely positive that given a few weeks of reading my middle-aged meanderings, these young people will drop me from their buddy lists like a hot potato, and I am perfectly all right with this. I realize that I am not nearly as funny or engaging on paper as I am in person, virtually speaking.

Speaking of the chatroom, it has come time for me to doff the habit as I tend to fritter the time away there in the company of strangers. My activities are suffering, and the inspiration for my writing is waning. Music must be copied, arias must be learned, and what happened to all my good intentions to crack open the oil paints this summer? So far I have not lifted a single paint brush or stretched a solitary canvas. Although I have met some interesting people who keep diaries here and I am sure we will stay in touch through Diaryland, I will be leaving the chatroom for more venerable venues.

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