Love is the Plan, the Plan's Regress

My sister's apartment has been flooding, and since this is unlikely to be fixed, and she doesn't really have time to look for a new place, on Saturday my dad and I helped her move back into the house. It remains a little startling to see her around (certainly her presence makes the dog excited), but on an emotional level I'm not sure that I ever really believed we weren't living together; it just felt like our schedules had kept us from seeing one another for a while. I wonder if I'll always feel that way, after decades, or if I outlive her; like she's here, in my home, just around the corner. This was, after all, the first time since she was born that we've been for more than a month apart; maybe her pattern is indelible. Or maybe it wouldn't have been so pronounced if I weren't still living where she's been.

Conor and I have been talking about having him write guitar parts for my music, and the plausibility of something really happening there has me as excited on the subject as I've been for a long time. Many of my older lyrics (which I've been turning to because for some reason I'd like to record things in chronological order of writing) are a little bit embarrassing, but if my songs can be made into things that really and properly exist outside of my head - no matter how amateurish - that will be just about the swellest thing ever.