Wonky of a Wednesday

12,304 Days Alive

6,620 Books to Read

1 Flat Tire

1 Missing Lug Nut Lock Key

My morning started with a flat tire as soon as I got to work.

I have a spare, thankfully. Also, it didn’t blow out whilst I was driving on the highway.

But the lock nut key is missing. And guess who only has $15.55 to her name until next Friday? Guess how much a lock nut key is? $25-$35 dollars.

Cue my absolutely frustrated screaming, my hope that something good happens, and my endless prayer that I make it the next two weeks without needing to refuel.

Bonus level bullshit: my hands are hurting too much to crochet. So I’ve switched temporarily to cross stitch and picked up an old project found during the move:

It is a fragment of a stanza from Sarah Williams’ poem The Old Astronomer to His Pupil

“Reach me down my Tycho Brahe, I would know him when we meet,

When I share my later science, sitting humbly at his feet;

He may know the law of all things, yet be ignorant of how

We are working to completion, working on from then to now.

“Pray remember that I leave you all my theory complete,

Lacking only certain data for your adding, as is meet,

And remember men will scorn it, ’tis original and true,

And the obloquy of newness may fall bitterly on you.

“But, my pupil, as my pupil you have learned the worth of scorn,

You have laughed with me at pity, we have joyed to be forlorn,

What for us are all distractions of men’s fellowship and smiles;

What for us the Goddess Pleasure with her meretricious smiles!

“You may tell that German College that their honor comes too late,

But they must not waste repentance on the grizzly savant’s fate.

Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light;

I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.”

My slightly secret love for the heavens shines brightly. Though, full disclosure: blatant ignorance of astronomy I can claim beyond the most basic concepts of meteorological happenings. Hell, without a compass, I couldn’t tell you which was was north without puzzling with the sun to one side for a bit. But the planets, and planetoids as that is a distinction I must make since some scientific body thought it a splendid idea to cast out the celestial body named after the deity of death, hold a special place in my heart. I can not navigate by the stars, but I can marvel at their age-old beauty.

I’m frustrated. And tired. And wanting my body to be less a jerk.

Ah well.

Take your meds, folks.

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