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Saturday, 15 April 2023, 11:40 am It's a rainy Brooklyn morning... you're a phone number and six states away... I don't live in Brooklyn, but I do have this song on my mind whenever I wake up to a rainy morning. I've been here a lot. I haven't been writing, but I've developed a habit of looking in multiple times a day. Facebook, too, though I'm less than jazzed about that. But whatever, I'm not hiding in the corner, and that's nice. I haven't been writing, but I've been accruing thoughts I want to put down. I so often only write here when I'm miserable, so a long list of things that feel good (thank you, spring Yesterday we had a high of 83 and a low of 43, because... why not. It's currently 45 degrees. The winter was wild, so I guess that makes sense. Our string of days in the 80s melted the thick blanket of snow and brought out the grass. It also brought out the wasps - all of them suddenly in one day. Do wasps have a purpose like bees do? I hate them. The chunkiest bumblebee landed on my arm and listened to music with me last year, and it was magical. I see one wasp and run screaming. The only tree with visible green leaves is one that split and collapsed under long-lasting heavy snow. Anyway, now it rains and brings us back down to the 60s, 50s, lower... I'm fine with it. It seems more appropriate for April. And it gives me more time to decide what to do about outside plants. It may be overly ambitious to think I'm going to do anything more than pulling out existing plants this year (especially with these godforsaken wasps everywhere), but I would like to try. I had to get a new pothos because I accidentally left Molly in the sunroom with the doors closed over one frigid night and couldn't revive her. Alas. I've also managed to keep some grocery store basil plants alive for a couple weeks even though there are too many in one small plant. I'm going to try to repot them to see if I can keep them going, but I'm not super optimistic. I got some gardening arm sleeves to keep the bugs and pricklies from inducing sudden jumps and screams while I'm doing work outside. I love nature! It's terrifying! I feel like a lot of good notes are going to be about purchases I've made and that feels... icky in some way, but many of them are replacements or household improvements, and they've brought me joy, so whatever. I worry that this falls under the "have you had any wild increases in spending" question the psychiatrist asks me, but I'm not spending money we don't have, I'm not buying shit without putting in a purchase request, and it feels in part like I'm finally just comfortable considering it our money instead of just his. I don't think it's marriage that's changed that as much as having this house. We've been keeping the house well-maintained. Well, he started while I was still down in the dumps, but ever since the med kicked back in full force (my god, has it ever) I've been on this game as well. A game, indeed. I walk around the house and see a shred of paper on the floor or an errant sock and say, "Oh no, look at this mess." Then I clean it up. I've developed a habit of constant sweeping. We got a new vacuum cleaner and I don't know that I'd ever thought I'd be this excited about a vacuum, but it is a delight. And a broom comb? What even is that? Who are we? It's very satisfying, I'll say. Having clean spaces makes a huge difference. Mentally and visually, yes. But when I don't have to put a lot of work into the common spaces to keep them clean, it makes it a lot easier to attack other things. I've worked on the bedroom, my room, the garage, lots of little spaces that haven't been touched or gelled yet. I managed to get all my clothes put away, sort of. I'm thinking I might use part of my office room as a type of dressing room. I so often wear the same outfit for a week or pajamas forever (especially in the deep winter), it doesn't seem necessary to try to squeeze all of them in the bedroom. I have a trouble with knowing what clothes I have when they're shoved into dressers where I can't see them, so if I can use the closet and shelves in here for that space... why not? My room is... coming together. It is... absolutely ridiculous. I'm laughing as I type this. Almost immediately after moving in, I impulsively painted this room a deep, almost berry purple. A couple of weeks ago, in the middle of my spending spree, I finally ordered curtains for the street-facing windows. They're... haha. A blue nebula pattern. Haha. Last week I bought a desk. It's... haha. It's pink. It is a desk for gamerz, so it has a cup holder and hook for headphones. It has a riser for an additional monitor (the main reason I wanted it) and attached beneath the riser.. is an LED strip. So basically I have a desk with neon ground effects. I die a little death every time I look at it. Also got myself a little bluetooth speaker. I thought I'd be getting rid of at least one of my floor-to-ceiling bookshelves to make room for the desk, so I donated/sold a box and a half of books... on top of the books I got rid of before we moved... but instead I just moved one of the shelves to the other side of the room and now the majority of my books fit on just one shelf. If the d&d books move to Dan's office, and I move the big Ganesh outside, they would all fit on one. What the fuck am I supposed to do with the other two shelves? Bins of art materials and electronics, I suppose. Cadence is finally getting a new house, and I promised to hand over boxes. That motivated me to go through a few boxes I hadn't touched in the house yet, which led me to getting rid of most of my makeup collection. Purge everything! Throw it all away! Yes, I replaced a few things, but I still have far less than I did. I also have like, five bottles of nail polish now instead of thirty. My nails are painted for the first time in over a year. I have makeup on for the first time in over a year! I'm going to the mall with Jen & Ollie shortly so I got all dolled up. I'm wearing my new sand-colored geometric glasses that came in the mail today. And an adorable pink and purple gradient oversized crop top sweater that I bought specifically because I've been very down on my body lately. It's layered over a tank top, but it serves its purpose. I also got a gym membership, but that feels cursed. First, I did a complimentary training session, and I think if I'd known what was going to be involved, I would have waited. I couldn't walk for three or four days. Not in the way of satisfying soreness, but in the way where I could barely stand up or sit down. The second time I went, I spent a half an hour walking a mile on the treadmill! Nice! But then I couldn't get my phone to connect to Lyft and decided to just walk home. Another mile! Great! Until I discovered the sidewalk ended halfway and there was nowhere to cross the street, so I just had to walk on the steep shoulder, facing the wrong direction on a busy major road. Twice I was almost hit by a car. Fucking suburbs. At least I got over 10k steps that day! Ha. But I did get a new hula hoop, and soon I'll be able to play with it outside instead of being very careful with it in the sunroom. Anyway, I talked the gym manager down to a six-month contract instead of a year, and I'm glad I did that because I don't know that I'm going to continue with it. I'd like to be able to use the weight machines, but like... it's overwhelming to figure out how to use them. *** 7:30 pm 8000 steps and a short sit on the couch later, I'm back. I might be too tired to finish this. I certainly don't have the generous amount of energy I had this morning. Most days are like this. I spend my day bouncing around, and by 6 pm I'm exhausted. Is this what normal people are like? I don't know. I'm drinking coffee, but I don't really want it. I haven't had much plain water today (I've been trying to drink more, and keeping track), I didn't have a kale smoothie this morning (I did most days this week, but I was out of kale), I want a strawberry soda, but really those are more refreshing when it's hot out and it is definitely not that. Water it is. I'm fussy now. And I'm grumpy about being fussy. Today was mostly a nice day, and the week has been nice and I don't want to be fussy. It's not time to sleep and reset the day yet. Yesterday was a rest day since I've been go-go-going all week. I spent Thursday morning picking up big sticks in the yard and breaking down boxes in the garage, and the afternoon was all cleaning. That night I said, "Maybe tomorrow should be a rest day." My body agreed and promptly shut down. It was funny, almost. Dan enforced my rest day. He gave me rules. No lifting of heavy anything. No opening of boxes. No standing on step stools. Lay around and read. So I did. And I had the feeling that I hadn't done anything ever. I had to look at the notes I've been keeping about my daily activities so I would remember that I have in fact been very busy. That's why I've been writing the notes down. It helps. He's playing lofi music in the living room. I can hear it ever so faintly. Perhaps I will just go out there, and finish this later... take a cue from my body. Don't be fussy. Go, drink water, relax. Reset. *** Sunday, 9:19 am Ah, yes, okay. That's better.
Snow falls. 31 degrees. It sticks to the ground, for now. It won't be dry for a week. I had to move all the outside stuff on my to-do list to the bottom. There won't be any yard work for now. What is else is good, friends? I've been feeding myself more often, rather than waiting for someone else to do it. This is a big deal. Oh! I cooked twice. Actual meals! This is very far from the ordinary. It's been years since I've cooked something for the both of us. It's a very easy life I live. Indeed it is, and that's something I feel some guilt about. But hey, I've started therapy with someone I actually like. She's on maternity leave right now, but we started emdr therapy and... that is a challenge. We're working on the anxiety I have about riding in a car, but instead I've been talking about my dad a whole lot. What is the path from one to the other? I have no idea. But I'm curious about the process, even though it feels a little like making myself feel bad when I otherwise feel good. That's the point. I only do therapy when I'm in crisis, and I only deal with things as they happen, and the rest of the time traipse around like, "Ooh la la, what a past, boy I need therapy, ha ha ha." Well, here we are. I never thought I'd mourn discontinued sneakers, but here we are. Just kidding: I never thought I'd buy discontinued sneakers off ebay, but here we are. I've been washing my dang face and doing my silly little skin care routine. There's not much to it, and I don't know if it's actually doing anything, but it makes it easier to look at myself. Similar to the new clothes solution for the body image issues. Yes, I've gained weight. It's a fact. But I don't have to hate myself for it and make it harder. Apparently today is the anniversary of my old divorce. Well, okay. Feels like a weird thing to still "celebrate" since now I am happily married or whatever ("or whatever" lol) but... there's still something to it. The love is nice. We're in love with the house, and very silly with each other. That's just all going well. There's a renewed energy and a renewed delight. *dance party interlude* I've been reading, like, for real. I found the list of the books I read when I tried reading last year. I only made it to six, and that included a couple of graphic novels. Nothing against them, they're just shorter. I started reading in February when I went to Philly for a week, and now I'm on book thirteen. THIRTEEN. When was the last time I read this much? I have no idea. Digital library lending and a paperwhite Kindle seems like it makes a big difference, much as I love paper books. I'm doing so many things where I can't remember the last time I did them. I hope I keep this up. What else? I'm sure there's something I'm missing, but I feel like this is long enough. If you've read all of this, I love you. If you haven't, I love you too, you just won't know about it. *** Here's a list of the books I've read so far! The first three books of the Earthsea series. I've been wanting to read some Ursula K. LeGuin for awhile, so I figured I'd start there. I haven't read a lot of fantasy so it was a little challenge, even though I play fantasy games. I liked it, but I haven't gone back to finish the books yet. But! It was a good place to start. Reread Timequake (my favorite Kurt Vonnegut) and Valis (my favorite Philip K Dick). I started The Divine Invasion, the next book in the Valis "trilogy," but pushing myself through Valis again was such a slog. When I got to The Divine Invasion, I realized I was trying to push myself through just because, so I quit. It's the only book I've given up on so far. Since I'm keeping track of how many books I read and how long it takes, I don't want to quit on books. What a waste of time! But I'm also not going to read something if I'm not enjoying it. The order of all those books is all mixed up, but after those I moved on to Cat's Cradle. I've been trying to work on this thing where I only read one book by an author or listen to one album by a musician and never investigate further. I liked Cat's Cradle. Not as much as Timequake, but that's hard to beat for me. Next was It Devours!, the second book the Welcome to Night Vale podcast people put out. I'd just downloaded the library app and it was something I clicked on to test how it worked. I'm glad I did. I'd been meaning to listen to listen to the podcast for a long time, so this was my first real introduction to their schtick. If there was ever something designed for me and my sense of humor, this is it. I read it in a day. This was at the height (the depth?) of my recent depression behavior and it was nice to have something amusing, something to remind me that I was actually doing very well at being in a depression cycle this time around. I started listening to the podcast a bit, and read Welcome to Night Vale, the first book. Also enjoyable. The novelty of their style has worn off a bit, but it still pleases me. Then... ugh. I don't remember now what it was, but something in Cat's Cradle made me look up whether Vonnegut had any marks against him word-wise, even though for the most part I vibe with a lot of the things he says. I've seen at least one documentary so I know he wasn't a perfect dude, and mid-century American men authors are... well, they used to be most of what comprised my shelves, so I know that "complex" is an easy word for it. But I read about Welcome to the Monkey House, a story in a book of short stories by the same name. I decided to read it for myself so I'd have context, and there was one story in the book I liked, but the title story in question was... unfortunate. I will probably continue with his catalogue, but this put me off for a minute. Rape as a device is not my fuckin' favorite. I read Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin on a recommendation and... it was good and well-written and made me cry, but also stressed me the hell out. I do like stories with games and design as a backdrop. It started out set in the mid-90s, which is a charm. But for the first half I was just waiting for shoe after shoe to drop. It wasn't bad enough that I was reading it just to read it, but I was definitely ready to move on to something else. So I re-read Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and The Restaurant at the End of the Universe. I can basically skim through those, having read them so many times. I'll probably return and finish the series since it's been so long since I've read it, but I moved on to Junot Diaz. I posted a picture of the shelf with all the books on it, and a friend mentioned him as the only spine she could read. So I'm reading The Brief Wonderous Life of Oscar Wao, which I could be reading on paper as an excuse to use those cute bookmarks I have, but instead I'm reading it on the device so I can read in the dark if I want. I may reread Drown as well. *** Lastly, a related text from twitter via ig: *** Busy, busy, busy.
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