About Me

Sick Week

The family caught a cold this week. Just a regular, common cold, and I’m still chasing the one-year-old around the living room with a tissue.

I set up an air mattress in the living room and turned it into a camp out, which the kids thought was great. We watched a lot of movies, played a lot of video games, and drank an enormous amount of juice. My husband and I switched off who was in charge, based on who needed a nap the most desperately.

I like my life.

I like throwing a sick party with my children. I like wiping up little noses. I like having a husband I can rely on.

We live in a world where very few people can understand that. There’s a constant push for more more more. I’ve gotten so much criticism for not joining in the rat race, to the point where I don’t bother trying to talk to most others. What I have right now, is good enough to live for no matter what else the world throws at me.

And I don’t want to live in the sort of world where one-year-olds have no one to look after them when they’re sick.

About Me

Omens

I marked today on my calendar for personal reasons, knowing full well that nothing memorable was going to happen. Still, it had to be done.

Yesterday, another appliance died.

I’m in territory where I can’t just do a google search and find the answers. One of my biggest gripes about modern paganism is that all the sharp edges have been taken off — there’s no such thing as a bad omen anymore.

But in the real world, buildings burn, people die, fortunes are lost, love is broken, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

We’ve had four appliances die this year. Numerous signs revolving around blood. Both of my horse shoes fell from their door frames (where they had sat for a few years). All of my bundles of sage somehow ended up disintegrating where they were hung to dry. If you ask me, it all adds up to a boatload of shit speeding towards us from the horizon.

Last night I dreamed about a raven, but I highly doubt that it symbolizes getting a job interview.

For now, I make it through today, and the reason why I marked it as special.

About Me

Update

I’ve decided that I need to stop keeping an eye on trends, considering the increasing number of things that are physically painful to know about. Honestly, the sort of terminology that is popular on the internet makes me want to say, “Uh huh. And did you come up with that before or after you ate Tide pods?”

No one with any intelligence or dignity would apply those sorts of words to themselves as a label. Ever.

Then again, I think that quite frequently when I go to the grocery store and see what people are wearing these days. A main characteristic of modern life is how far are you willing to degrade yourself to fit in. I’ve come to the conclusion that the majority of people don’t have any limits.

And I don’t want to know about it.

I’ve also decided that there are some IRL people that I need to cut out of my life entirely. The situation is getting too fucked up and exploitative, so it needs to end. Not to mention, after a year and a half of no contact, I found myself simultaneously thinking, “Were they always this bad?” and, “I did not miss this!” So I have to work my way through the guilt of being a cold-hearted bitch, simply because I don’t want to be treated unfairly anymore.

In other recent events, there’s nothing quite like watching a building burn down to remember how meaningless and insubstantial materialism is. Everything can be lost in under an hour. Everything. So instead of wasting my time on empty pursuits, I’ve been playing Jingle Bells on the piano while the children dance and sing.

Memories last longer.

About Me

Recluse

When I first learned what a recluse was during my childhood, I thought that it sounded like a great idea. Heck, I even made it my life goal.

Shortly after reaching adulthood, I discovered that I don’t actually enjoy living completely alone. I forget to eat if I don’t have someone else around to keep me grounded in reality.

So, now I have a family of my own, and it works really well for me… As long as I get the kids in bed early so I have time to myself, lol.

But lately, I’ve been feeling overexposed to people.

It’s the combination of a number of things that I don’t want to get into (don’t worry, it’s not you), but I’m worn down. I don’t want to interact with the outside world, so much as I want to retreat within myself and paint the stairs. I’ve absorbed too much energy from too many sources, and I need a mental cleanse.

I’m being literal, btw. I bought supplies to paint our wooden staircase yellow and green, and have been doing the prep work. The previous owners painted it taupe, so I’m not ruining anything. Albeit, I *am* making it weirder.

Reclusive. Retiring. Cloistered.

That’s me.

And you can’t bully or cajole me out of it.

About Me

Musing

The other day I was musing over how all of the creative sorts that I used to follow back in the day all dropped off the face of the planet, when it hit me: I dropped off the face of the planet, too. Talk about a blind spot, lol.

Though I didn’t have any adoring fans that I let down. There are people out there who are very good at commanding attention and getting noticed … and I am not one of them. I tend to become shy. So. Very. Shy.

Anyway, my absence from the planet is why I sit here saying, “I’m super passionate about writing,” with so few titles attached to my name.

Those lost years were essential. They added depth to my ideas that I wouldn’t have developed otherwise, and broke me out of the standard tropes. They gave me life experience.

They also left me too scattered for awhile afterwards to finish anything. I had no focus or consistency.

And I don’t like talking about it, so don’t ask.

Thankfully, in this part of my life, I’m a lot more solidly grounded, so I’m much better at writing nearly every day (I say after I took a full month off just because). That’s the part that really matters to me, but dang do I wish I was working faster sometimes.

Like, it would be so sweet if I was finishing TWO novels every year, instead of just one.

Because sometimes I feel like I have too many stories inside of me, waiting for their turn.

About Me

Rose Quartz handspun yarn

Purchased from here

My phone kept automatically changing the color balance while I was taking pictures, which I found to be thoroughly amusing and decided to run with it.

Guess which one is the most accurate? 😀

Anywho, this yarn is going to be a new pair of mittens for yours truly.

About Me

Anecdote

Back when I was 18, I had a friend ask me to go with her to apply for a job. I filled out an electronic application as well to kill time.

My friend was called in for an interview first, and bombed it. Then I got called in.

I didn’t actually *want* the job, but I played along anyway. On the day of my interview, I drank way too much caffeine and didn’t take it remotely seriously, because I figured it didn’t matter — there was no way I was going to get hired. I ended up pretending to be a completely different person.

Then I got offered the job.

I took it because it paid a bit more than the one I had previously.

Which turned out to be a big mistake.

It became very obvious very quickly that I was a bad fit. I strongly disliked all of my coworkers because I thought they were shallow, materialistic, and bitchy. To top it off, my manager backtracked on what she had said during the interview and was not only unwilling to accommodate my college classes, she scheduled me to work more hours than anyone else. I hated absolutely everything about all of it, and I wanted to bail.

But my parents lectured me about work ethic and blah blah blah, so I felt enormously pressured to stay. I put up with coworkers making passive-aggressive comments about my shoes, tolerated a pushy and demanding manager who was never satisfied with anything, and skipped my lunch break so I could leave early to show up late to my classes.

After a month, I remember standing with my back against a wall as I stared blankly into the room, feeling certain that my soul was taking damage from the toxic environment. I was fading.

Then I found out that I had been squeezed in last minute at a lower pay, and that the new(er) hires were making more money than I was because of a major change with the company — hence why I was given the more demanding schedule. I felt like the victim of nasty prank.

After two months, I couldn’t take it anymore and quit. I informed my manager that I was never coming in again, and that was it. I still hope it ruined her week.

With my next job, I was 100% myself in the interview, and ended up somewhere where I got along quite well with most of my coworkers. I stayed with this job until I met my husband and moved away to live with him.

Lately I’ve been reminding myself of this event in my life.

Reminding myself that “stepping out of my comfort zone” isn’t actually going to achieve anything desirable.

And I’m not going to let myself get chewed up and spat out in a vain effort to pursue my dreams.