I do love …

… Saturday mornings.  The feeling when I first wake up and realize I don’t have to go to work, and then roll over for a few minutes.  I dreamt of a new house with a mud room hahahahah I’ve always wanted one of those … a big ole kick ass closet when you first walk in, and it has a sink.  Anyway, the whole dream took place in the mud room … a baby on the floor sleeping, other kids coming and going, a big dog, a mother (not me) who told me that “it really doesn’t sit well that you go to work every evening at 6:00” hahahaha wtf?? So strange …. but I still want a mud room!!  Snoop slept with me all night which is unusual, so maybe his feline energy integrated with my dreams.  Who knows and who cares?

Sitting now with my cuppa and a blanket over my knees … I refuse to turn the heat up when I have skads of blankets.  I’m still not feeling 100% and while I didn’t feel too sick to go to work, I don’t feel well enough to do much of anything physical.  Not complaining by any means, just acknowledging that my body is recovering from the aftermath of a warzone.  I will be heading out to my parents for lunch and to make a start on the last wall of my She Shed, but I won’t overdo it and may only get the figuring out part done.  It isn’t worth slipping backwards in my health.

The story I’m writing for the upcoming PQ reading is falling into place nicely, and if it goes well this morning before going to the ranch, I should have the first rough draft hammered out.  Then I may put some effort into writing a flash-fiction for an online challenge – deadline is the 17th so it’s totally doable.  The PQ story is priority though because I want to have the final first draft ready for critiquing at our Tuesday meeting.  I’ve also got an erotica story in the works, but I’m still massaging the story outline.  Sometimes it’s difficult to capture the ideas in my head and get them out on paper so they have the same sexual/sensual energy.  Time and attention is key.

Nancy and I spent a few hours on Wednesday drawing and chatting.  In the end, we did more chatting than drawing, but we haven’t gotten together for so long, we had some catching up to do.  Before going over there, I checked in with LT … something I haven’t done in months and months.  It took some time for me to find her, and then voila, “oh there you are”.  I may have even said that out loud hahahaha She was sitting at a table drawing intently, and when I said “oh there you are” she didn’t look up.  She seemed content, and at least she wasn’t sitting in the corner anymore with her knees pulled up to her chin, looking sad.  That’s what I thought anyway, until talking it over with Nancy and her take was that LT was giving me attitude and basically ignoring me because she wasn’t happy with how I’ve been treating myself, and her.  When Nancy said that, it felt right … sigh … it felt exactly what LT would do, and it’s how I’ve been feeling for the last month or so, but I’m making changes and noticing the difference in how I feel overall … even the virus thing made me pay attention to my body which I’ve neglected over the summer.  I wasn’t really in to drawing … my creative juices always take awhile to start flowing, so I just played, and then I started thinking about Maureen suggesting I write a letter to my Grampa using my left hand which would be a letter from LT.  I never did do that (NTS – DO IT!), but what I did do is put the pastel in my left hand and I drew a horse and I remember how gently I slipped into LT.  I love my horse … proud of it even … a little kid kind of pride and at the same time a grownup love of the little kid who drew the picture … Pretty sure LT looked up from the table … she may have attitude but she is very forgiving.

It’s always interesting to me how I can only handle people for so long.  Is that the introvert in me?  Sometimes I feel like such a mixture of this and that … not a full introvert, and yet not a full extrovert.  I get it that they’re just labels and I am me … the way I am right now may not be the way I am this afternoon etc etc.  That’s called growth in my eyes.  I’m always open to hearing other people’s perspectives on life and living, and I take what resonates with me even if I don’t embrace it right away, and sometimes I figure out that it’s just not for me which is okay too.  Nancy is my best friend, but she carries a chip on her shoulder that she tries to put onto mine.  She’s an activist, a protester, fist-shaker, and she’s been hurt as a little girl … terribly hurt … and she’s trying to gather her bits, like we all are.  She speaks her truth even if it might hurt the other person.  Not that she intentionally wants to be hurtful, but she is learning to stick up for herself.  Way to Go Nancy!!!!  Thing is (and this is my perspective) she operates from anger when sticking up for herself … hmmmmm and I guess maybe I do too … thinking back to sticking up for LT to Russell … but there’s a difference somehow and I haven’t quite figured out what.  All I know is that when I leave Nancy’s sometimes I’m agitated from her angry energy at others.  Where’s the understanding? and what about forgiveness?  Feels like I’m judging now, and really it’s just an observation, and maybe what she observes in me is that I don’t stick up for myself enough … that I’m ‘too’ understanding?? Too forgiving? To my detriment?  Worthy of further observation for sure.

I like my code of ethics and while it may not match exactly the codes of others, I’m good with what I choose to believe and how I choose to live.  I have a lot of work still to do, and my code may change, but for now, this is me:)