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

Monday again. Queen of Procrastination here.

This has been a very weird summer for weather here. So much moisture. Either humidity to knock you down or just plain rain. The gardens are lush, but much of my tomato world is not ripening, because SUN, mr. golden sun, hasn’t been shining down on me.

If you know that song and it is stuck on a loop in your brain right now? I’m sorry and welcome to my world.

I’ve got a big writing project and I’m spending a lot of time avoiding it. This is not good. Seriously. Yesterday I watched a bunch of tv, used the weedwhacker in between bouts of fixing the damn string on the weedwhacker and bought a damn wheelbarrow, which I have been needing for a damn long time. I have big plans for it. But working in the rain kind of sucks. and dudes, i am supposed to be writing. My brain is a damn wild horse and I’d rather just watch it run than get the damn thing corralled.

DAMN.

I finished a book this week too. The Memento, by Christy Ann Conlin. Really liked it. Makes me think of Grey Gardens a lot, but with kids, and Canada, and a little bit of supernatural thrown in. Well-written and thought-filled.

I’m also reading Slaughterhouse Five again. I’ve got a kid who has my delicious ability to procrastinate and we’re both flying high with not doing the right things in the right order. So, I’m reading it and he’s sleeping, and I’m not working. Win.

Because clearly, I have time. (WTF?)

Lousy pictures taken with a laptop. but cheez. I don’t really care, and I do, all at once. Sigh.

I’m off to find something to do besides write, I guess.

I predict, I mean. I’ve got ten days left to get the majority of this thing done, and I’ve got ten percent of it done. TEN.

in ten days my beloved friend that i haven’t seen in 8 years will arrive and i’m so happy i want to lie down like a whale on a beach and die. (or be saved, i think thats way better than the other.) Someone roll me into the shallows please, with twinkies, and some ringdings please. Maybe pizza and a beer?

Ah shit. Someone motivate me. Please?

Humanity

Nibbles

i do what i can to take care of myself lately. i’m only talking to people i like and i am not looking at a dating site. (now that i’ve typed it, i’ll probably look tonight, goddamnit)

i’m trying to go to yoga twice a week, i’m taking my vitamins.

i’m making sure to water the plants and i’m even using fertilizer this year, which i’ve never been willing to do because i’m all ‘nature should be untouched’ and all that shit.

we’re still not going to the beach very much. two redheads you know. they don’t really want to, and i would have to start drinking if i spent a full day in the sun now. and that sounds gross to me.

i send a letter occasionally.

i’ve figured out a way to get air conditioning on the entire bedroom set. it involves several pushpins and a sheet hanging from the ceiling. we will see. the truth is, i think i sleep better without it. it seems to be giving me headaches. what a bitch.

i’m taking my kid to camp for three weeks this weekend. i will be more fragile than i think. or, as fragile as i think. there will be a lot of driving and my older teenager has completely opted out to stay with friends for two nights, and someone is coming to watch the dogs and release the chickens!! (you have to yell that, right there, as in RELEASE THE KRAKEN!!)

there are a few moving parts. i’m taking my youngest to visit with two of her great aunts and their husbands, greatuncles too, and we’re going to a fabulous garden on the coast. maine has a whole damn lot of connection and visitation spots, as its where both my parents were born and raised. I wonder if i should visit some grave sites… it might freak my daughter out, and i don’t think the dead will notice. hm.

i had a job this week and it felt pretty damn good to have my wednesday all filled up. I purposefully cleared these past three weeks to spend time with kids before camp. and then it was cloudy and humid and rainy in a million ways. and too much screentime for us all. so it was less than ideal and i’m thrilled that my kid goes to camp for three weeks screen free.

i’ll have more work next week and I’m hoping structure will help me give us more activity. we’ll see.

first i’ve got to leave a kid in a place that makes him supremely happy and makes me feel like i have a hole in my heart.

i’ll be fine. i will.

remind me he needs a flashlight. okay?

allright. glad i’m writing? HA! a bunch of nibbles for you. I’m thinking a lot. I’m looking forward to when it starts spilling out onto a keyboard. its been a good time, believe it or not.

love you,

kate

person holding flashlight during nighttime
BUY A FLASHLIGHT, GODDAMNIT. TIME IS RUNNING OUT. Photo by Wendelin Jacober on Pexels.com
Humanity

Dark Night of the Should

It was a writing prompt, in which I don’t allow myself to edit. Edit? you say? You edit? Aha. Yes, yes I do. I may not care (here) about capitalizations of the I, and so on, but I do spell things correctly, and I do try to use grammar to capture the way it would sound if I were speaking. So there.

But in this prompt, I am ‘rulebound’ to not fix my errors at all, in an attempt to kill the inner editor which censors. And so I typed today’s title, as a mistake. I clearly intended it to be a reference to the Dark Night of the Soul that the mystics undergo when they lose their faith and are consumed with doubt about their relationship with the divine. Perhaps they are even cut off, as they believe, if such a thing is possible. ( I say it is not, but I am not in charge of their belief system, believe it or not.)

So.

My last list, of things to give up, was to help me with releasing some ridiculous ‘shoulds’. I ‘should’ be married, I ‘should’ be an office working professional, I ‘should’ look put together at some point, without the crew of people who got me ready for a wedding, my wedding. I should be cartwheeling. I should be buying lottery tickets. (those last two? clearly still on the fence.)

You’ve read a million things about why shoulds are bad, I know you have. I’m just adding another. A refusal on my part to accept the life I actually have, and all the power I have within it. What I’m doing right now? Is FUCKING AMAZING, and I don’t need any shoulds to water it down. I’m a writer, I’m raising three kids, I’m growing a garden and raising chickens and I’ve managed to do it all while recovering from a kind of traumatic marriage. DAYAM.

when I should myself, I’m denying the actual day to day life that I have. Which is real, and sometimes cruddy, and sometimes I’m an asshole, but its real, and its all mine, and i’m the boss of my house.

And sometimes I get really lost, and I get swamped by futility and lonely and fear of the future and the constant dishes. (would someone please just move in and take care of them? Swear to god, no rent if you just do the damn dishes. Wait. Fuck. I have kids! Why don’t they do the damn dishes?! Fuck.)

But that swamp? THAT IS THE DARK NIGHT OF THE SHOULD. right there. when i’m disappointing myself so badly, because I think I ‘should’ be something else. Well, I’m not, goddamnit.

I’m POPEYE THE FUCKING SAILOR MAN.

northern lights over mountain and forest
Photo by Mohan Reddy Atalu on Pexels.com

so bite me, shoulds. BITE ME.

-kate

Humanity

Not going to do it. Give Up.

It has occurred to me lately that I need to make a new list. (right? shocking.) But this list is in fact, something new, to me.

I need to make a list of things that I’m not going to do. And feel contentment seep in, with the release of the niggling feeling that I should be doing these things.

For instance

  • I am not going to minimalize. Really, I’m not going to have an empty countertop. I like the look of it, but I like to ‘use’ space, see my things, and have everything close at hand. My sink will not, in general, be empty, or shiny.
*in making the list, i’ve got to be careful not to close doors i want to keep open. I mean, I could say i’m not going to win the lottery, but hey, if i start buying tickets, i’ve got the same odds as anyone. So it does not go on the list.

2. I am not going to have more babies. (yeah, boy! that means something relatively new and fantastic in sex. so fantastic.) I can buy baby clothes without having my breasts leak. And, I can release the need to look like i’m 27, and I can welcome the belly that gave me the babies. (ok, well to be totally transparent, i’ve got too much welcoming going on, and need to take alittle better care of myself, food wise)

3. I’m never going to be a party girl. I’m never going to be in a large group of people who are all drunk, because I will always have the freedom to leave, and leave i will. I will never be a party girl. I will always leave early. I probably don’t want to come to your cookout, because I’m scared a little. (this one tears at me, still, sadly, but it is completely and utterly true. never.) I’m not going to be the jolly girl that everyone loves. few will get to know me, because I don’t talk about myself. (except here.)

4. I might not be married to someone for fifty years. I’m not sure this one really matters, but it is a growing acceptance. I’m not giving up on finding the someone, but marriage and longevity are less and less likely. I can be okay with that. There is much in my life. GOD, i am pretty damn sure I don’t want to get married again. Can you imagine that?

5. I am not going to homestead. I’m not going to survive on food that I have grown myself. I love that I canned tomatoes last year, but guess what? I never used them. I refuse to be making more waste for the world. I refuse. And God Knows how much I don’t want to preserve kale, or eat a thousand pounds of zucchini. If the zombie apocolypse comes, I have enough refried beans and chicken broth to last me a long long time. I will also eat my dog. But don’t tell him.

  • 6. I’m not going to be the ‘it girl’ for everyone. Some people will love my breasts but give a toss for me. Some people will think I’m aloof. (idiots) or maybe judgemental. (clearly not.) HA. But some people are just not going to get me and some people are not going to care one way or another.
  • 7. I’m not going to make flawless use of technology. I just don’t care enough. So its going to look like this, and my ocd friends, I’m sorry.
  • 8. I’m not going to stop making mistakes. I’ll never be perfect, flawless, or even ‘all-put-together’. So there. I give up.
*Another thing that is funny is that i find resistance in the oddest places. I am not going to do cartwheels? I don’t want to type that one, because maybe…. how odd, and somewhat ludicrous, but really. Also, Katherine Hepburn pants… why can’t I? notice and move on.

What can you give up on? This is my new ‘ultimate coaching’ stratagem… GIVE UP. GIVE UP.

🙂 love love,

yep.

me.

woman wearing brown leather chunky heeled shoes
Frankly, I could swing these, in petite. Photo by Dellon Thomas on Pexels.com