(no subject)

My mother has developed some kind of throat...thing, I'm not sure what it is, but her doctor has advised her to talk as little as possible. Which is weird; it's not like my mum's super-annoying chatty, but she does talk a lot, so getting on the phone and doing most of the talking is surreal. Usually I just make appropriate noises in appropriate places and answer questions. It works for us; I actually rather like not talking, and found it very freeing the last time I had an actual medical excuse not to (I had a filling that was rubbing my tongue raw, painful but kind of relaxing).

It does mean that she is now home alone most days (she's not working at the moment) and can't call up friends or talk much to the dogs, so she has taken to texting me. Constantly. Relevance not required. We just had a conversation about how I had left a pair of cargo shorts there the last time I visited. Also her thoughts on track lighting. I find myself typing appropriate noises at appropriate times and dreading the ding of my phone. Coming up with a response to statements like "I like lighting" are hard, yo.

Having writer's block hasn't helped. I KNOW RIGHT.

I haven't written anything substantial in a while now, and the one thing I did manage to finish I had to whip myself through. I open stuff I've started and look at it and it just seems monumentally difficult. I kind of feel the same about opening up my LJ/DW posting client, which is awful, because I enjoy talking to you all, I just have had the least interesting life ever of late. I got fitted for a mouthpiece to replace my CPAP, I guess that was interesting? They had to do molds of my upper and lower teeth, and the woman doing the molds was super-new, so when she took the mold off my lower jaw she went "OH MY GOD!" and ran out of the room.

I wasn't sure whether to be worried or offended, but then she came back and said "The doctor gave me a perfect! It's my first perfect mold ever!" and we bonded over her new triumph. I mean that sincerely; I was excited for her, though that could just have been lack of sleep.

Interview with Tiny But Special East Coast Institution on Friday went well. At the moment I've got two interviews running and about four applications I'm waiting to hear on. R asked me "Do you WANT to leave Chicago?" and I said no, but guess who isn't hiring? EVERYONE IN CHICAGO.

Argh.

Okay I am setting a simple goal for next week: do not die of heatstroke. And at the end of the week I shall feel accomplished. Or be dead of heatstroke, in which case I'm still out of my misery...