I am trying to calculate the ratio of time spent indisposed or away from my apartment, and the ratio to time spent IN the apartment before I decide I have to vacuum/pick stuff up/clean.

My tolerance for clutter is higher than it used to be. Perhaps I pick my battles. Perhaps I'm getting old and lazy. A clean bathroom and kitchen are essential, as is laundry. But somehow the rest of it just sits there. Sometimes it multiplies.

I used to clean my dorm room to avoid doing homework. Now I avoid cleaning by spending time online or doing some other random activity, like knitting, crochet, watching TV or reading. I find it interesting, not really disturbing, okay, somewhat disturbing at this apparent shift in tidiness.

The best thing to do, I suspect, is to stop thinking about/analyzing it and just go deal with it.

I just can't help but think about it though. That's what I do.

I don't like being sick. I don't really get sick very often, but I discovered I had a UTI on Friday after a trip to the doctor's office. Shortly before that discovery the nurse scared the life out of me by asking if it was possible that I was pregnant. Honestly, that thought had never crossed my mind. She left me in the exam room then, just me and my thoughts. Me and my racing crazy thoughts. It was the longest 15 minutes of my life!

I haven't taken antibiotics in a very long time. I'm taking something that cannot be taken if a woman is pregnant, so I know the results of that test. This medicine makes me feel funny. It makes my skin itch all over. It's annoying. I know it's working, but I have to take it for 4 more days. Maybe I'm just a lightweight with regards to medicine like this.

I read too many websites with side effects and sometimes I freak myself out. Is it an ache or a throb? Is it chest pain or tightness? I think being by myself makes these thoughts worse, because sometimes I have trouble distracting myself.

I haven't been doing well at just lying on the couch watching TV, either. I get up, putter in the kitchen, move some things, check my e-mail, open or close the window, and sit back down. I do any combination of this stuff a lot.

Here's to modern medicine and NOT reading too many prescription medication websites.

I'm amused. On my radio next to my desk there is an acapella version of the Hallelujah chorus from Handel's Messiah. On my television in the living room is Kill Bill Volume 1.

I wonder if that will create some sort of clash of weather fronts in my kitchen.

I'm having an issue with that back to school clothing TV commercial that thinks it's like The Breakfast Club.

First of all, nothing is like The Breakfast Club. It was the first time I realized a movie could show the way things ought to be. The way they could be if we were all brave enough and wanted to change the world we were a part of. Everyone could relate to a part of one or more of those characters. Everyone knew someone like nearly everyone in that movie.

Everyone tried too hard to earn their parents' trust and approval. Some of us tried too hard to get good grades and do the right thing all the time. Others tried too hard to be bad.

I hear that cheap knock off of the theme song by Tears for Fears. I see young students mimicking different scenes in the movie in that same school set. I realize teenagers today have a whole new set of things to contend with that I did not.

It's still not right. Find your own theme song, dammit.

My birthday comes around and I seem to get thoughtful, pensive. Not too analytical, but just thinking about stuff. I tend to think a lot, and it's not always productive.

So, I'm working on knitting a goofy looking case for my iPod. It's bright and stripey but not protective, other than from scratching. If I were to drop it, it wouldn't protect much. It's the kind of thing that involves thin, fine yarn and small needles. It's the kind of thing I have to pay attention to and can't really zone out to the television while I do it. I'm not entirely sure I'm pleased with it, but I may make another one for a friend when I've got the "bugs" worked out. Then I'll have to embark on a new project. My boyfriend's mom gave me her yarn stash, and I can figure out something, I am sure. I am captivated by the pattern for knitted bowls, made by knitting them out of wool and felting them. They seem so oddly decorative. They can't be used as a regular bowl would, but they would just look nice, a soft, fuzzy bowl.

After that, I have a couple of weekends of activities planned with people I love. Unfortunately it means I can't do some other things that I would like to, but that is the way life is. I can't do everything anymore, even if I want to. And that makes me sad, and feel old. Which brings me back to the whole birthday thing.

I have love, life, health, joy, enthusiasm, a body that works and gets around pretty well, and people. I have talents and things I enjoy being a part of. I have so much that can't be measured on a balance sheet.

I'm still going to buy myself something wonderful. I just don't know what that is yet.