My November Guest

My November Guest

My Sorrow, when she's here with me,
Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
Are beautiful as days can be;
She loves the bare, the withered tree;
She walks the sodden pasture lane.

Her pleasure will not let me stay.
She talks and I am fain to list:
She's glad the birds are gone away,
She's glad her simple worsted grey
Is silver now with clinging mist.

The desolate, deserted trees,
The faded earth, the heavy sky,
The beauties she so truly sees,
She thinks I have no eye for these,
And vexes me for reason why.

Not yesterday I learned to know
The love of bare November days
Before the coming of the snow,
But it were vain to tell her so,
And they are better for her praise

-Robert Frost

I started a puzzle on the kitchen table. Now it's a rush to finish it before Thanksgiving. I think I'm going to make some Thanksgiving dishes this week and test to see if they're good. I need to go to the grocery, but I don't want to take 10 minutes to dry my hair, and I don't want to go with wet hair. 

Several of the job descriptions I've come across for technical writers requires a writing sample.  And so I thought I should write, even though I now think technical writing wouldn't be for me. Ugh, I wish I could find a job doing something I remotely care about. I applied to another stupid oil and gas job, SIGH. I need a real job. I considered applying to Barnes and Noble but then I read the description and it involves too much people. Besides, Barnes and Noble is my favorite public place to go and I wouldn't want to ruin that by working there. 

Typing is so much fun. It was funny, one time we talked to Ainsley about learning to type. Of course she made a big deal about how she didn't want to learn and it's not necessary to learn how to type. If typing is not mandatory in school nowadays it should be. It is most definitely necessary. Can you imagine being in the corporate world and staring down at your fingers and finger typing each letter? Man, that's a good way to make yourself look incompetent. It really doesn't take too much effort to learn how to touch type. Force yourself not to look down and over time it'll come. I learned the lazy way. My mom showed me where to put my hands, and over time I naturally became better and better at typing and now I don't look down. I'm still not a master though. I always use the left hand shift key. Which makes capital 'a's difficult. 

Speaking of job descriptions, I was filling out an application for a receptionist job at a university, and the sentence asking me to describe how good I am at paying attention to detail wasn't a real sentence. So I pointed out the mistake as my answer. 

I think it is true that writing every day is important for writers. But blogging is like writing in a diary. Does that even count? It's not fiction, it's not a political commentary, it requires no research or thought or good adjectives. (See? I didn't even try to think of a better adjective than 'good'.) I dunno, I guess it's better than nothing but I don't think it does the best job of growing you as a writer. However, the act of writing could spark an idea for a poem or something else. 

This entire blog post is completely not worth re-reading. It's like a bunch of Facebook statuses strung into paragraphs. I'm thirsty. I already had coffee and I don't want water, but I don't like orange juice. Maybe I'll make hot cider. Hm that gives me an idea, stream of consciousness writing. But hopefully about something more interesting than my base thirst needs. I don't really like that style though. A simply put, wise thought is so much more interesting. 

"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: It goes on."

I just don't see the use in this diary form of writing. Except for self contemplation. Maybe I should write short stories. Mmm cider and puzzle. 

Ttyl.