It's hard to know where to start a log.
Last night the Introverted Thinker was telling us what she is worrying about. She is worrying about atoms and protons and electrons. "I don't understand them. How do they hold together and why? Why doesn't my hand go in to the table? There are spaces between them and how does the hand part stay hand and the table stay table. And when I rub my arm a layer comes off and then why doesn't it leak? Why doesn't the inside start falling out?"
I worry about grundoon a lot.
The Introverted Thinker says, "I don't want to be a scientist. It's scary. We don't really know how it works. Why are people here? Why do the atoms come together and make things? What's it for? What if it isn't for anything?"
The clinic opening date is April 30th. I'll never be ready. Auuughhhh. Might as well set a date. Word gets around town fast.
IT says, "What about an architect, mom? Is that an ok thing to be? There isn't too much science, is there? But I might want to make things too square and boring."
I finished three months at the Army Hospital, commute two hours there, work ten, commute two home. It was really fun and exhausting. I worried about falling asleep on the road and was careful. The Beau loaned me his car which is at least 12 years newer than my decrepit fleet and has side air bags and front air bags and more modern safety stuff. I let him, a departure for me.
IT says, "I might become religious so I don't have to think about science. We don't KNOW and they CHANGE it."
I say, "I think the protons and electrons like to be organized. They are attracted and repelled. They are organized for a while and then disorganized. They come together and apart."
IT says, "Infinity. That's ok. When I was really little I watched the Simpsons and they watch themselves on tv and I thought that we were watching them and someone was watching us and so on. It was scary then. And what about fractals? A picture of a fractal isn't a fractal because if you go small enough the ink can't get any smaller so it isn't real."
I say, "Hmmmm. I don't know if a picture of a fractal is a fractal. You are right, it's limited by the ink. Finite."
The Beau had his back surgery. Two months out, doing really well, sciatica gone. A piece of stitch came out of one of the incisions. He thinks doctors are awful and know less than he realized. "Don't stitches absorb?" he says.
"Mostly." I say, "Except when they don't."
IT says, "Life on other planets. Maybe it wouldn't use water or air or anything we would recognize. Maybe it wouldn't think. How could we tell?"
The Extroverted Thinker came home from Thailand. The situation had gotten really awful. He is back in high school, picking up precalculus in the middle of the year and doing the Running Start college courses to finish 11th grade. He is very happy to be home.
IT says, "And what if those protons and electrons are alive? Then everything is alive! How can something be part of the air and then part of a plant and then part of me?"
I say, "And what about when we gain or lose weight? The part that was me and isn't any more."
IT needs a hug.
I say, "Let's have chocolate. I think chocolate electrons like to be eaten."
So we do.