The natural curiosity of humanity allows me to entertain the idea of practising my climbing abilities on the partition between my balcony and my neighbors'. Their toddler has been steadily crying all this morning. I can hear his crying broken or altered by the way his mother holds him; sometimes his voice wavers when she pats his back or when she walks quickly across the room. I can tell when she leaves the room by a particularly loud screaming sort of sob, and a wilting relieved sighing noise when she re-enters. Poor thing(s)! The Little One must be sick.

Seeing as I have a stuffily inclined nose and am drinking tea for more than comfort and taste, I can see where he might be in a similar predicament; only, suited to age and temperament, I am not curled up in the arms of my protector with my hair in a mussy tangle, crying loudly and helplessly. I sit in the comfort of an outwardly placid composure, accompanied by a large mug of tea, typing away superior and condescending sentiments about the helpless infant on the other side of my bedroom wall.

I wonder what it is like to be a house-wife . . . I wonder what it is like to be anything but who I am! Gah. If I can keep my mind on one track wondering, then I can think the thought through thoroughly (alliteration intended), but when there are so many options my mind just kind of shorts out and whimpers at me.

Who was it said that Dickens was an INFP? After finishing the first book in "A Tale of Two Cities" I heartily agree with you. To untangle myself from the little pity-inducing bleeding-heart-vines, I ate meat for lunch and read "The Battle of the Pelennor Fields".

I wish I could have heard Tolkien read that bit aloud--he was such a moving speaker and even with Rob Inglis reading it (no offense to him, of course--if anything, deference) I just get thrills down my spine thinking of Eowyn's laugh, Eomer's stricken fury, the unfurling of Arwen's gift with the return of the heir of Elendil. *sigh* Pitiful, I know, but everything I've ever wanted in a good story is in Tolkien's histories . . .