I don’t think that there is anything I can’t do. I just think that some things are easier to do/come more easily to me than other things. Most people are like this, so I am not alone. When things are difficult, I am also like most people in that I become impatient.

I have a good imagination, and I am happy about this. I am creative and I am happy about this. I am able to get in the zone when writing, and I am happy about this.

I, however, have a difficult time with administrativa. See? There isn’t even any such word. Numbers and organizing them has always eluded me. Yesterday, Skye, the Alaska Literacy Program math tutor, was working on some GED problems, and I attempted to follow his line of thinking as he showed me how to solve these problems. I had a very hard time, and finally, in my head, I decided that he was following a formula and this was what he was adept at. Skye has a deep voice that does not match his countenance. I am always startled when he speaks. He kept saying, “this is fun” as he, in a very formulaic fashion, did the requisite problem solving.

I did say that I’d like to learn algebra and he obliged by going over some very basic stuff. I sort of got what he was saying. I told him that I can deal with positive and negative numbers on the vertical but not the horizontal. I don’t think that he had ever heard anyone articulate this before.

Now today – another example of something that’s difficult for me. I had a number of lists of volunteer names that needed to be entered into a spread sheet, so that they can be further categorized. I attempted to do this and realized in less than a minute that this would be a struggle for me, and that it would take me hours to do. I foresaw that I’d become frustrated in attempting to do this task.

So I asked Pete to give me an assist. He did, but not before telling me how easy this task would be. I shook my head several times and very nicely, repeatedly, asked for help. He did, and we got through half the list, working in a companionable fashion.

He wasn’t happy about working on something that he thought I could do because he has so much else to do. I understand this, but I also understand that I have limitations.

His limitations never make themselves apparent because they are not as visible. He does not have an imagination – you will never find him writing a poem or drawing a picture. I realized this when I was in New Zealand and I got letters from him. They were very short and factual. I should have known, but I did not know because I was then in love. In time, I accepted his limitations and he accepted mine. It’s a part of the package deal.

Next: 286. 10/23/25: Living Dangerously