Tag: work

Humanity

I’m taking a class.

Lovelovemotherexpletive

Amidst the hellacious mess that there is in the basement and my finances, I am taking a class on Powerful Questions. And, amazingly, it has to do with listening.

Its a class that is held over the phone and I’m flatout exhausted at the end of the hour, listening so hard, translating those bits I can’t make out into bits that make sense. I just finished an hour now and my ear muscles are sore, yes they are, don’t argue with me . . . and neck and face, where i was holding the phone, so tight, so tight. usually i wear gigantic headphones, bigger than my face, but today i was too distracted to find them in time, and so i squished that fucker phone right into my brain.

its exhausting. and then kid #2 walks in the house and wants a ride hitherandfro. and if i had a partner, i would just lean on them in quietude for a little bit.

but instead i have a sweet five minutes before i start yelling/begging about ‘when? when do you need a ride? tell me when and i will take you!’ because i’m trying to beat the bus for kid three back to the house. His inability to match my speed and ferocity is legendary.

these are not the questions that the class is teaching.

I’m finding it really interesting actually.

how you formulate a question to someone can really open a door.

What do you want to happen instead? (get dreamy on your bad self, man, get dreamy…)

Is there anything else you can tell me about that? (get detailed, put those details in your dream, your story…)

What is something you can do in the next few hours to get that feeling?

I’m digging it. Its all about activating the different ways you can listen, so it feels especially ironic to me, the deafie. exhaustion and enjoyment. isn’t that a hoot.

yeah. i said hoot.

-love love,

me.

attentive eagle owl sitting on tree branch
Gorgeous Hoot. Photo by Mehmet Turgut Kirkgoz on Pexels.com
Humanity

Drastic Times, and shoes on the wrong feet.

Lovelovemotherexpletive

Okay. I did it. I cancelled my two dating apps and I am absolutely jonesing for the ping of the phone. JONESING.

the ways in which the random ping can make you think of possibility and romance and dreamy? Oh. yes, sex and titillation, it is all in there. and perhaps i’ve been needing the dopamine hit of a like, a shot of ‘what if?’ once and again.

i’ve been telling myself i can go back to it whenever i want, no pressure. but i’ve already noticed i’ve been less attached to the phone.

honestly, i need some quiet time. the kids were here with me in a way that felt like every day all day and we managed and now they go to school this coming tuesday and my brain is feeling cluttered. very cluttered, as if i haven’t done a sweep in a week, and the dust bunnies and hairdevils are taking over, the world blurry with softness that still manages to be disgusting.

blech.

i’m out of mac and cheese, if you can believe that. i haven’t done a big shop in a million hours. MAC AND CHEESE? HOLY GOD.

i feel like shaving my head. (only kind-of kidding.)

I feel like a wild stallion locked up.

and also, in a rush, i feel like i’ve got to do something fast, or i’ll just repeat all the things i’ve repeated before. you know?

dissatisfaction. the hindrance of the cockeyed feet.

in my head i’m calling people cocksuckers a lot. i’ve also had the kids today for ten days straight with no break and so i think i need a literal quiet moment and also a much larger reorganization of my entire life.

fantastic.

no problem.

win.

gar.

love love,

me.

brown and white stallions running in a field
Pent up no more. . . Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
Humanity

An ass-kicking

Lovelovemotherexpletive

Family style, work.

My mom had been telling me that my uncle wanted to teach my boys how to paint, for a couple of months if not since the last time I saw him, pre-covid. This is my dad’s brother, the skinniest man alive.

So, I knew, when he came to visit my mom, that he would probably spend a morning here. He is 78 years old and a powerhouse of work ethic. He lives in Florida now so mostly its a twice a year proposition.

He called me last weekend to make sure I knew what supplies to get, which made me realize the error of my ways.

My kid owed me money for utlizing paypal without asking (big fucking no on that.) So my uncle had a chance to teach him how to scrape down stair risers, let them dry and then prep them for painting, and then paint them.

Which he did.

Oh, and then they hauled. And they powerwashed.

My uncle also uncovered the patio pavers, which were covered almost entirely by grass and the dirt and friends that grass brings.

He and my mom restored part of my garden to beauty, pruning a rose bush back into a non-dangerous specimen and giving me a chance to see my daylilies again. By doing so, they uncovered the peeling of the paint on the breakfast nook that my uncle had seen at his last visit. it had bothered him. this would be at Thanksgiving, of pre-covid, so… November 2019. I’m going to type it out, yes, the peeling paint on my window sills bothered my uncle twenty one months ago.

So, the whole point of this post is here. Make a list. Cross things off. Its the best thing in the whole world. (for your nieces.) A long list, a 21 month list.

Honestly, my mom and uncle kicked my ass. They worked like beasts and my kids and I ran around following orders and pulling away tarps full of yard debris. A deck was powerwashed by me, in the fervor of ‘oh my god, work!’ … I made lunch once, drove to pick up lunch once, went to work once… It was two long half days and I’m really truly giddy with some of the things they did.

Its kind of amazing to realize how much things weigh on you, that aren’t even making your lists. It can feel pretty insurmountable here, this house, this yard. It really can.

That said, I’m going to go paint another stair riser, because I wrote a bunch this morning, and I really want to paint more.

A list!

but first, some more painting.

Humanity

Happy, like Pharrell happy.

Lovelovemotherexpletive
  1. I’ve got another writing project again and I can kvetch about how its hard to write for hours a day but now I can and I will get paid. I’m very happy about that.
  2. I’m already procrastinating about said job and am going to take a bath today while it rains on my garden which is going to explode. I’m so very happy about that.
  3. I’m thinking the rain will cancel both baseball and lacrosse and everyone will be home for a real honest-to-god sit down dinner and I might even break out the placemats. I’m wildly ecstatic. (crazy rare right now)
  4. The rain. Let it rain. rain. rain. farmers are dancing all over right now. dancing. Their joy will feed us!
  5. I took the sweatshirts off the line before the rain came. While everything around me might be falling down? Dry sweatshirts and a victory are pretty damn satisfying. (small things are breaking, just small ones. no worries.)
  6. Still haven’t completed my taxes but I’m feeling great that they are finally underway. Productivity and accomplishment are coming! I’m quite pleased.
  7. This is the kind of rain that will end in rainbows. And i’m wildly happy about my life, that I know this.
  8. I have a chicken who refuses to sleep in the coop and she lays her eggs in the shed. She has survived so far, and I think she might believe herself to be a rooster. I’m thrilled for her. I have no idea where she/he lays his/her head at night. Whatever it takes.
  9. I can sit and type and look out at the rain. And this is part of my work. To let my brain wander and fill in characters and wander back again to the page. How could anything be better? (delirious.)
  10. School is out in a day and a half. I’m a little nervous, but also feel like a pro at this point. I’ve already heard the ‘its so boring, we have to do something fun every day’ pitch and it is a little bit panicky to hear it before school even ends, but damnit, they say every summer is the best summer ever, every year, so I must be doing something less than horrible. And I’m clutching to the joys of corn on the cob and kids happily playing with friends. Clutching to Joy. (my next book. HA! WHITE KNUCKLED GRASP OF JOY!)

love you,

me.

Pharrell* If you don’t know what this is, for goodness sakes. Do it now.

Humanity

Today, worry, fritter, work.

Lovelovemotherexpletive

I’m avoiding my to-do list by adding tons of shit to it. Like ‘mop floors’ added to the top, lefthand side, just so i could cross something off.

A friend of mine went into the clinic because he thought he was having a reaction to his second shot. turns out he’s having a heart episode. So I’m doing a lot of stuff I don’t know that I need to do. I’m not that important that I’ll be kept up to date, just happened to be texting when he went to get checked out. So now I’ll just fritter away in anxious energy with no way of finding out what is happening.

I superduper cleaned the rugs in the living room that is proof that I don’t need this big a house. Its almost completely unused, and yet stanks. I hauled the wet rugs outside and broke any fingernails I might have had. Rugs.

I cancelled two subscriptions.

I will do the homework for my Story class, which I’ll tell you about at a later date. Unless I turn the tv on, which is a soul-killer and sucks the life out of me. But I keep having to walk past it.

I mailed off the beach pass application, at the post office even. I love me some post office. Convince me not to.

I got a ridiculous splurge in the mail. Matcha milk bath. (it really wasn’t ridiculous. its just money spent only on me that makes is feel ridiculous) and Yarrow and Lavender hydrosols. I had to look up hydrosols, too, its a spritz basically, with flower essences inside. (birchstone apothecary, here in my town)

If I can chill the fuck out, I will get in the bath and tell you all about it. I think I’m so worried about him because it gives me an outlet for all my frittered emotions of the past year. I certainly want my friend to be okay but I’m bazonkers right now, way beyond what should be.

I called my mother-in-law whom I love to bits, and who has no short term memory and multiple cancers. She asked how I was (un-fucking believeable) and I told her I was not very happy really, while mopping the stupid kitchen floor. She told me to hang up and go for a walk, not to miss a single minute of this beautiful day. She described the clouds outside her window and told me I needed to go find mine.

So I did. And all the music on my walk were ballads from the 80s and 90s and I was home in a good way. and I walked, and felt sexy as I did. Filled with the vitality of the living-right-now kind.

Shit man, life is a topsy turvy thing. Here one minute…

I love you babes, and I’m out here if you need me.

  • kate