I came home today to a piece of mail saying that I have to pay a tax that I didn't think I had to pay. I still don't think I have to pay it, but I have the awful sense of being burdened by another £50 a month that will just constrain us even more. I really don't want to spend the next four years worrying about money, but it looks like I am heading down that road. I'm not sure I secured the proofreading job I was hoping for. So much up in the air.
My studies been really good though this week. I had a really productive meeting with my supervisors — my supervisor called my writing 'fluent' — and came away feeling like I was moving forward, figuring out what I need, and being sufficiently scaffolded to borrow from Vygotsky for the first time. I realized that I am not really studying language or metaphor, but organization and how organization occurs in language. It is what I have been fixated on watching TED videos for the last year and it's so odd that all of these interests are coming together. My life as a self-organizing system.
A few of weird things have happened in the last couple of days, bad omens. Streetlights going off as I walk under them, three in two days. One of my new friends from the MRes programme is sick with cancer and even though I have just met him and hardly know him, it is bothering me. It shouldn't bother me. All men are grass.
And now, Naomi is starting to communicate. She says, just now, 'Ball.'