Marking time, I guess. And that's all I have to say about that. I'll wait till November 14 to figure out who/where I am and what to do about it. (I already have plans for January.) So I'll think of something else.

Well, there's always my little scraps of papers, notes, quotations, files, ideas, questions, random thoughts and bloglets. They certainly take my mind off me. They're all such fun, I could sit down with one or more and be content - - no - rapt, for the rest of the evening Yes, it's evening and I don't have a baseball game in front of me.

Recent random thoughts: I was wondering how many women diarists have committed suicide.I know: this doesn't classify as fun. I's interesting, though. I can think of only four: Virginia Woolf (1882-1963 - water [drowning]); Dora Carrington (1893-1932 - gun); Anne Sexton (1928-1974 - carbon monoxide); Sylvia Plath (1932-1963- gas oven). Of course, looking up their dates with a fresh glance at their lives and careers (God bless Wikipedia) took some time, and I made a few more notes. I want to read Elizabeth Bowen's Geography III. No, she didn't commit suicide but I got sidetracked a bit.

More than a bit. I thought of Marie Bashkirtseff (1858-1884). She didn't commit suicide, she died too young of tuberculosis. But she was one of my favourite early diarists and now I want to re-read her diary. Oh my.

The world is so full of a number of things....