I’m sitting here, eating a coffee-cake cupcake (chocolate-pumpkin with coconut, chocolate chips, and dried cranberries) that made to use up some gone-off milk in the fridge. It’s -42C outside today, and I’m wondering if I can get away with holding off on bird-cage cleaning until the deep-freeze warms up to a balmy -15 or so (including wind chill,obviously).
I started a part-time contract job a week ago (two months of above-minimum-wage, 4 hours a day, office work that I can walk to, with people who don’t suck! I win! Now how to I wammy this into a permanent gig??) I cleaned my fridge and re-stocked on basics like apples, cabbage, and cheddar cheese (which was down to under $6 when it’s usually close to $10 per pound). I’ve made (some) new candles, done a honey pot to help my former-or-maybe-just-paused romantic partner get the job she’s angling for right now (fingers crossed!), started giving a fuck about how I present myself to the world again (mostly, I admit, because of the job, but whatever works… Having spent a chunk of yesterday talking Glamour with Miss Sugar didn’t hurt, either), and redyed my hair (for the first time since October), and am starting to work on old projects (including making back-up files, ye gods) again, and dipping my toes into some new ones. The Archivist and I are talking. Just chatting and catching up. Far less frequently than we used to (for obvious reasons), and with a distance that hits me hard but, according to my lovely wife, is “just how she is”. (Joni Mitchel is singing through my head about don’t it always seem to go… because I had no idea she didn’t talk to everyone in her heart with that degree of openness. I’m sorry to have lost it.
As much as I’m still doing a lot of Self Work (and dealing with the corresponding degree of Crying At My Desk while I’m at it), and will be for the foreseeable future, I’m also kind of sick of feeling like the Three Of Swords (Ice-Olation, Jealousy, heartbreak in general) all the time, flip-flopping back and forth between anger, grief, and holding onto hope (whether that’s a wise plan, in the long run, or not). She’s in no position, right now, to do anything but get through each day as it comes, and the chance to consider whether both/either of us want to try doing Romance with each other again is going to be a long time coming. Right now, I want to hold onto hope, recognize that how she’s relating to me right now is how she relates to the partner I have in common with her, and – to some extent – the other semi-sweethearts in her life whom she wishes she could be seeing more of, but can’t right now. Better to focus on me, find the things that bring me joy and do more of them, get my ass back on track for my Queen of Cups Project (I still haven’t done that mirror wammy, let alone tackled Week Six), get back to writing up my Daily Cards (which were never actually “daily”, but still), and get a handle on when “processing” turns (yet again) into “wallowing” in order to stop that business before I get myself in too deep.
Questions for this lunar cycle:
What do I need to firm up?
Where do I need more flow?
Goals for the coming week:
Make a giant batch of muffins at my volunteer spot (tomorrow morning – Dear Weather, Please Don’t Be Too Cold, it’s a 40-minute walk…)
Restock my beeswax candles (I have nine on my altar now, so a single batch doesn’t go very far)
Do my modeling gig (got one this week, got two more coming up after that, woohoo!) on Thursday night
Visit the yarn-and-roving shop, get some more roving, and spin more yarn for my weaving project
Start knitting a new sweater
Write some poetry (because what’s the use of a break-up, if it doesn’t generate some good poetry, amirite?)
Start going through the boxes in the front room (one at a time, this could take a while) and sorting which books (among other things) to give away, versus which to make space for on my (already stuffed) shelves.
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