Humanity

The end, my friends.

i should definitely not type this.

However. Tomorrow, they all go back to school, and my work day ratchets right out to fill the space. A whiz-bang.

I’ll be fine. It also happens on a tuesday, when they spend their night at their dad’s. So i will come home to a house that is quiet and empty of all the things. except seedlings, the house is full of seedlings. And i’ve been told the farm is ready to take more of my seedlings, so there will be two locations full of seedlings in a hot minute. So much explosion of growth.

And writing. (i’m not ending it)

I’ve had a really hard time getting my writing job done. really hard. I’m so damn afraid to take a break because I fear never going back. I still owe one and a half books, so I’m tied to it some. BUT goddamn. All I feel is dread about myself, and my inability to lock it down, focus, fit it in, make it work while the kids are home, spend all my spare minutes on it, all that jazz. It is not the feeling I want flourishing right now. It hurts my head.

But what happens if I stop it? If I stop saying I am paid for my words? What then? I feel a blankness descend when I think about a life when I am not talking about it, or playing with a word or two. what the hell man. I’ve painted, and stopped. I’ve grown things and stopped. I’ve quilted and stopped. The constant has been here, this blogging crater I fall into once a week or so. What if I stop writing? Will I curl up and die on the inside? I might. I don’t have a lot of faith in my inner fortitude on this one.

Will I be more upset with myself if I don’t die? Will THAT be the real death? The ability to soldier on without the beauty of the word? The end of it all. the no-spark.

I know. Maybe you can’t follow all that. Its a mood. Like the bookstack I might never get to.

like taxes.

like taxes.

  • love you guys,
  • love love.
selective focus photo of pile of assorted title books
Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Pexels.com
Humanity

Wild, wild pendulum.

Honestly, my moods are fucking insane.

I want to blame the hormonal shifts that come with perimenopause, I do. Fucking 47 years old.

But I am also doing a lot of things and trying to stack all the pieces just right so that nothing falls down, and its a lot anxiety provoking.

Today’s freak out was about money. I’m trying to refinance a house and since you know how profitable the blog is, I am sure you are not worried about me at all. but still, the working at farms thing isn’t really the best idea when you are trying to prove yourself to a bank. So i feel like I’m in a movie, and I’m the down on her luck salesman who just sits at the loan desk, waiting for a better answer. And I’m doing a lot of rabbit hole blame towards my ex and myself for all the latitude I have given him, which has put me in this hole in the first place. GOOD FUCKING GOD. And blame is not something I like to saddle up on. Its very prickly, and in a very bad way.

Sigh.

Today I did not have to go to any work places, because I had a mammogram appointment and some therapy (soon, very soon now.) And its snow/raining so I am incredibly lucky. And my old body is still creaking from the last couple of days anyhow. You really should have seen me getting up from the sofa yesterday. Really really.

However, having all the time to snuggle is no good, when things feel like they are ricocheting around the room. ‘Things’ being my moods.

Turns out this is just a complaining post. Goddamnit. Maybe I’ll come back after therapy and see whats up then?

Please hold: Part 2 will be arriving shortly. . .

Okay. well fuck. So, turns out I’m completely anxious for good reason. Right? I mean, money, and dreams and hopes pinned on bureaucracy (i had to look the spelling of that up, bureau? really?) are anxiety-provoking things.

And I was missing my dad, my right-hand man who helped me do stuff like this. He’d let me do it, but somehow I’d feel much more in control. Protected somehow from the slings and arrows. I guess we all want that. and i do.

I’m okay. I’m glad of therapy to point out what might lie beneath the annoyance of refinancing my life and dreams. I’ll be fine, refinancing or no. and thats the whole damn truth.

fine.

  • lovelove
Humanity

Fidgets and Suddens.

My eight year old is obsessed. Can’t stop trying to spend her money on little bits of plastic that squish, or pop or spin. It is making me nuts, causing my inner panic buttons to be pressed about waste and the future and poverty and sea turtles.

Seriously.

And my house seems to be decomposing. Everything is breaking down this fall: cars, toilets, dryers, lightswitches, everything you can imagine. The suddenness of so many of them are keeping me from writing, which, you know, is how i make the money to cover the sudden things. My bills are mostly paid with child support and some alimony, but this extra stuff is all me, and i got a quote for a big ticket item that will curtail some of the constant littler things and i’m just overwhelmed guys, does one use savings in hopes that savings aren’t needed for a different sudden thing? its a many pronged fork and i just want to use my teeth. rip and gnash. get that?

it’ll all be fine, i know.

Today’s sudden was a toilet that isn’t filling with water, in its tank. Tomorrow’s sudden will be a handyman coming to visit. Friday I will be going back to the car dealership to fling myself on their mercy, again. There are days when there is nothing, and then a little fidget, and a Sudden will appear. Most days I’m good, I can swing with it.

and then there are the other days.

Its a Thriller video. It is.

Love you guys. I do. I’ll see you on the other side, with some things crossed off the list probably.

sigh.

  • me.
white toilet paper roll on ceramic toilet
Photo by Vie Studio on Pexels.com

Humanity

Avoidance

I will now confess that I did not get my car inspected on time. I will add to the confession a full twelve months. Twelve months of knowing that it would be a very expensive problem if I were to be pulled over. I would not be shot, most likely, because i’m a white woman, but I would get a large bill in the mail.

big difference.

It is like me to avoid things, but it is not like me to risk on something so dumb. But now that the car has been inspected, I feel secretly quite proud that I scammed the government of a year’s worth of time. None of this is rational.

I also avoid doing my taxes. I’m old enough that I’ve done them myself, had them done by others and its all good, its a pain but it is not hard. and yet. It weighs on me, and I look away.

I’m avoiding the next step in my creative doer class. It has to do with a lot of work with fear, and I am ready, there is a stack of paper next to me right now. and no. can’t make me. no. go to hell. GO TO HELL.

I’m avoiding my former in-laws. because I get so upset. I’m very unproud of this. I get so upset on so many levels and it is hard to level myself out afterwards. I really actively hate so many of the memories that are stirred up by being pulled back into that whirlwind. And it hurts, and I don’t want to feel hurt. And so I will make some kind of food and bring it down this week because I am an asshole.

Sigh. so there. I’ve also been avoiding writing here, I think. I am feeling deeply bored, and don’t want to know that I am spreading that particular virus.

LOVE LOVE. Yeah, I still love ya.

-kate

Not avoiding dessert. 😊

Humanity

A list. B list. C list. Love and Fear it.

IF its not cup size, I just don’t care, guys.

A list, for me. Because I need to get the swing back in my hips.

What do I love? What am I scared of? What do I love…

  1. I love the ellipses… the dangle, the possibility of surprise, and the more, more, more…
  2. I’m scared that I’m not doing enough for my kids, that my predilection to let them do stuff on their own is just laziness and that they’ll compare me so unfavorably to their dad who is so flawed, but ‘fun’.
  3. I love the ups and downs and whoopsadaisys. I wish there were more ups right now. But I’m in it for the longhaul, I am. Whoopsadaisy.
  4. I’m scared of a lot of things. I have these ‘great ideas’ but kind of want to give them to someone else to do. I have a hard time overcoming myself. Anyone want to come to a writing workshop at my house? and pay for it? Yeah, me too.
  5. I love fish and chips. with vinegar, and with ketchup. and tartar sauce. its been ages. AGES.
  6. I’m afraid I will never read all the books I have staring at me. The library is starting to smoke its anger at me. I just can’t stop. Anyone want to do a giant bookswap in July? My yard. Tables and tables. Bring yours.
  7. I love my body, I really do. Its pretty damn amazing. Its larger right now than it is meant to handle, and I’m adjusting to that very slowly. (Do not give me advice or pointers on this because I will seriously resent you and probably never forget it, either.)
  8. I’m afraid that I’ll never stop comparing myself to other people and intellectually I realize it is fruitless and entirely imaginary, but goddamn, I haven’t found the trick to stopping yet.
  9. I love my body, did I say that yet? Damn, she is a hot one.
  10. I’m afraid I won’t get used to being alone. I’m working on it.

I’m working on all of it. Taking it apart. Getting it together. All with jazz hands. (No.)

love love,

me.

fried meat beside sliced lemon and white mustard
Fish and Chips. Photo by Valeria Boltneva on Pexels.com