Not working, and the country is on fire, and has been for four hundred years.

well. i’m supposed to be writing, for work. and i’m not. shocking, i know.

this is what i’ve done this morning instead of writing.

laundry. dishwasher. ordered seeds for the yard, calendula, valerian, zinnia, and lovage.

I’m going to figure out what to do with tons of calendula this year. You bet your ass I am.

texted with an old friend who i asked to yell at me and he did.

texted with another old friend who got saucy. it was funny but distracting and i was taken aback.

ate some crackers. made myself an instant coffee (sign of the apocalypse, yes.)

made a schedule for errands this afternoon which include finally watching one of the classes I signed up for, assuming I get another thousand words written.

I found a birds nest in the rhododendron. No eggs yet but I figured out how I can look without touching.

I have no self-bribery system set up. The floodgates are down and I’m not withholding anything and if I want candy, I go buy it, furthering the ‘not working’. This is the complete dissolution of productivity, folks. utter dissolution.

My inner core says the work will still get done. Am I doing drugs without my knowledge?

These are the things guys.

And I’m still not shot because my inspection sticker is out of date. Its’ literally not even conceivable. Right? What about you?

close up photography of zinnia flowers
Zinnias, Photo by Swapnil Chakraborty on


Mind smithereens, February.

Dearest February,

I’m so distracted today, my brain is lying in shards around me. I do have writing to do today, and I’ll be pretty lucky if I even open the document. or, I suppose lucky might be the wrong word.

and lest you think, ‘oh kate is so wildly lucky, it doesn’t matter if she works or not.’, I am seriously fucking myself with my inability to focus. Its true though, that I don’t have a boss, and only one deadline this week and I have innumerable hours. So yes, kate is wildly lucky. and totally fucked.

I’ve made the coffee, i’ve got laundry going, I took out the too-full trash and fed the chickens. I’ve got a little headache and I’m drinking water. I’ve been sleeping full-on shittily this week. Sigh.

How does one approach picking up shards? Should I be trying for a sweep? Or a careful one-at-a-time?

Its been brought to my attention, again, the rawness of this writing here, and I’m really grateful for all of you who read it, and have been able to handle it. Keep the faith. Know how much I love that you can handle it. Its a rare crew that can dive and resurface, and then do it again. I see you.

love love,


Crate of maple syrup, not smashed to smithereens. No shards here.