Humanity

Sweeping Realizations

I’m serious.

The realizations have been sweeping over me like a summer thunderstorm.

  1. Most men out there don’t deserve me. Couldn’t handle me. And that is the truth. I’m a genuine, bonified friend, and I focus on other people most of the time. And I don’t know what people are looking for, except not that, from me. I love hard and deeply and fast, and then need to be reassured that it is reciprocated. If I can’t find myself reassured, I will make up stories to tell myself I’ve made a mistake again, and should withdraw. That’s my story, that’s my pattern.
  2. We had a good shot at recognizing the power of the little people in this pandemic. There was a long, hot moment where we all recognized that it was the grocery store workers and the delivery drivers that were keeping us afloat. The small businesses that completely upended their way of doing things to satisfy the new status quo. They saved us, kept us going. (not amazon itself, but the truck drivers. see the difference?)
  3. If i had all the money in the world I would not spend millions on a amusement park ride to the edge of the atmosphere. I guess I’m just built that way. Its not glorious, but it is true.
  4. I don’t care about a lot of this mask bullshit. I’m fine with having my kids wear them. I’ll wear them. Whatever. Call me a sheep or an educated person, whatever. I just don’t care that much. If i am misguided? I don’t fucking care. The merest hint that it might help someone else? Yeah, I’m going to wear a fucking mask. Sometimes I wear one just to keep my 8 year old company. Yeah, you heard me.
  5. I’m not very financially sound. I feel this. Yet i have all this money coming in that I am given by the court system. So I can not complain, but I really feel the insecurity of it, still depending on someone else. It is not aligned with who I am. Yes, I am working on it, but I am not working on it to my satisfaction, so there is that.
  6. I’m never going to try eggplant. I told someone at my farmstand job that i just needed to grow up and try to cook it to my satisfaction. I realized this week that I was lying. I hate eggplant. I see no reason to change my mind about this. I can eat carrots, and zucchini all the livelong day, and be completely fine. Fuck growing up and eating eggplant. WHY? WHY?
  7. I do love doing what I want, not looking like everyone else and not giving a flying fuck. except when I hate it, and wish for all the opposite thing fruitlessly. Its amazing how sharp a swing it is. At least now I’m only dealing with perimenopause and not puberty. (can you feel the sweaty sarcasm dripping there? Let it be known, I am dropping all sorts of shit as soon as I hit 60. I swear it. As long as I don’t need to medicate to deal with the consequences of my actions, I am done. And i’m smoking again when I hit 70. that too. fuck it. )

So thats my story. I am still procrastinating. I had a whole day this week when it was intensely hot and I just lay on my sofa (after doing yard stuff and roof stuff) and moaned. I swear to god. I didn’t even open the project, even once. I am totally screwed. utterly.)

AND YET.

8. I’m an optimist. Despite all of it, I still think its going to turn out allright. I can get it done. I will find or bump into someone who does deserve me and I will recognize it and not freak out.

love you guys,

really do.

  • me.

Humanity

All done.

I’m done with a bunch of things. I ate a bunch of broccoli yesterday to attempt to keep my damn kid out of my bed last night. She is adorable, and often I love to have her sleep as she is the most adorable thing in the world. However, I am also a fan of my ‘own’ bed.

But honestly, why my brain would make me think broccoli was a good plan? Sigh. Slept like shit. farty shit. And now I am here, at almost eleven am, exhausted. Yelling at my kid who is 15 now to get out of my room so maybe I can take a nap. He is farty too, or I’m hoping thats the smell there. but I want just one place in the house that is mine, that the messes are mine, that the laundry I launder is just mine. MINE.

I’m all done with sharing. can i be? can i be all done with sharing my bed with children? is there some lost chance, some missed opportunity to snuggle that i will regret forever?

I’m done with my big project. Yes, another will arrive in a month, because it is luck to have work at all. This one was a particular challenge as i was morose and not working at all for a week, then the kids were here and recovery and grief and all, and suddenly i was in deep shit. brutal encouragement did the trick. but today, it is done.

now i go off to look at the class i signed up for, and get dreamy again, and maybe clean out the fridge. I’d like to rent a truck to move furniture to the dump. because otherwise i have to burn this messy house down. another thing i am done with.

teenagers. not done, but done, if you know what i mean. done.

sigh. i want some energy. where is it? did i have it before the broccoli problem? last year? When?

another thing I am done with? thinking that I should be all done with this pandemic thing. I ‘should be’ moving on, getting through, getting out. I should be moving, losing the weight, turning it around. The numbers are great, so great, comparatively. My mother is fully vaccinated, as are my in-laws and many people I love. And I don’t know how to accurately express the emotional salad bowl I have going on in me. What’s my resistance? What’s my problem? Why do I want to make another cake when I start thinking about it? Shit. fuck.

Done.

What are you done with? Really. I mean it. What are you done with?

close up photo of stacked brownies on chopping board
Brownie cake will do just fine. Photo by Marta Dzedyshko on Pexels.com

Humanity

Procrastination fuckery.

these are the things i type to my accountability partner, gibbler.

: just hit 12 K. cry for me argentina.

: oh my god, i just want to eat and watch tv. this one is a wolf and a witch. i’m dying dying.

: my brain is bleeding.

: evil eye to the laptop

:you are the devil.

:i need food.

Procrastination

She is so good. She just tells me to keep going. She’s amazingly good at it. She doesn’t even sympathize, just tells me how good i’ll feel at the end, which is true.

Failing gibbering maw of doubt and whine: This is how much i am suffering for my art. ( i just snorted, because this is many things, but it is not art.) I just want to point out what my accountability partner has to deal with while i am writing a 35000 word romance. and i am potentially in trouble on the deadline of this one. I just caught myself playing a swap it match game on my phone. and I’m here, now. My brain is toast. I wrote almost six thousand words yesterday and that feels like a lot. I wish I made tons of money. I wish my sauna were electric so I used it more. I wish I was easier for people to understand. I wish plants could talk if they wanted to. I wish this story were done. I wish i had some chocolate. I wish I didn’t have to go right back to it, right now. I don’t like horses, really, although i think they just intimidate me. but I have plenty of wishes anyhow.

sigh. fuck.

I’m at 22,000 words. Thats a fuck ton. It really is. I still haven’t done my taxes.

sigh. fuck.

adorable horse standing on pasture in mountains
This is a beautiful horse, not a wish. Photo by Dario Fernandez Ruz on Pexels.com