Tangled Grrl

 Y'all I am NOT in the Christmas spirit. I am cranky. Yesterday was a gloriously beautiful day. My perfect kind of day. Sunny but not eye searing sunny. Breezy and chilly. The kind of day that lets you mix sneakers and wool accessories and be comfortable. But I was at work so I worked. Then came home and did what felt like a zillion household chores. I had made a to do list on my lunch break. And it made me more than a little cranky. I've been asked what I want for Christmas. What do I want for Christmas? I want a maid. I want to come home and my dishes to magically already be clean. I want laundry to not be sitting in the dryer or in baskets in the laundry room. I want the clutter to already be organized and put away. I want space for bookshelves. I want to not have decision fatigue and it rear its ugly head when I'm asked yet again what the plan is for dinners this week.  Adulting is hard. And yet I'm beyond lucky to have a roof over my head and a job to go to every d

 My primary coping mechanism is Compartmentalizing. My conscious mind is full of neat little shapes that fit the areas of my life. Family occupies their shape, friends have theirs, work has another, the books I read have their own area, my crafts another, emotions that belong solely to me have another that is somewhere in the middle. There are other areas I'm probably forgetting. The borders are not thick and impenetrable. There are air holes allowing some crossover. If I picture what this would look like to an outsider it's somewhere between a Zentangle and a Tetris board.  During my normal day to day life, I jump back and forth between these areas, problem solving and feeling and planning. But if I have to focus on one or the other I tend to do my best to shove the other areas back in their predetermined spaces so I deal with the area in front of my face. If I need to work through a problem, I like to do mindless tasks so my brain can untangle problems. I knit or clean or org

 I woke up this morning and I just feel tired. Tired in my bones. I'm on another quarantine. And I'm here to tell you that I'm straight out over it. I'm a homebody by nature. My hobbies and interests are primarily solitary activities that require no social interaction. I like nothing better than reading a good book or crafting something with yarn or thread. I have a stash of crafting supplies that is almost  embarrassing. I have the luxury of being able to work from home when needed. So when one of my children got sick, I was exposed to her and we are waiting on test results and a quarantine was decided to be the best bet - it's not really that big of a deal, right? Well you would think not. Except the second I'm told I can't, or shouldn't do something, my desire to be contrary rises to the surface and all of a sudden I come up with eleventy billion reasons to leave my house. It's like that teenage rebellion was never completely squelched. I've d

I woke up crying for the first time in a very long time. I was dreaming. My whole extended family was first in a home that doesn't actually belong to anyone I know, but it was supposed to, and there was all kinds of the normal gossip that surrounds family gatherings. Lots of food. Gatherings in groups. Weird things that should never happen in real life but happen in dreams. Then the scenes changed and all of a sudden the family is all in some type of place for an event. And it seems like a birthday party. But it isn't. But it should be. And there's a disagreement over the treatment of homegrown vegetables and their use as fertilizer in a garden. And then my mom is angry that I won't eat a ham and cheese sandwich my husband got for me. Even though he knows I hate ham and cheese. He got me two different types to try. She says she hates ham and cheese too. And then it hits me that everything is wrong. It's all so wrong. Because my mom loves ham and cheese. And while sh

I've been dreading this day. I knew today would have a notification that would pop up telling me I had Facebook memories. I knew I wouldn't be able to resist looking. I knew I would cry. And I did exactly that. But I managed to wait until after 8pm to give in. I already knew what the memories would show me. It was one year ago today that I started living a life that was so much different. One without my mom physically present. Today marks the day that the Facebook memories will start changing. For the next three months I will see memories that will show me the journey that almost took my dad too. And for the last 2 weeks I've been antsy and emotional. Living through a quarantine doesn't help. I'm not a patient person. And I like to just push through hard things when I can. This is another First. And I want it to be over. I want the next few months to be over too. Mother's Day and Mom and Dad's anniversary and Mom's Birthday. And the Facebook memories

I have been lost in a world of fantasy lately. In between work, household chores, sleeping and basic living I've been listening to a series of fantasy. And it has been glorious. I get lost in books. Lost in the characters, the worlds. Entranced by the stories and even after they are over, they linger with me for quite some time. My husband has been on second shift for months, so most evenings it is just me, home alone. Home alone with the words of other realms shifting around me as I cook or clean or eat or knit. Adventures, loss, heartache, love and magic as the telling of the tales are played. I'm on book five of my current series. Hours and hours of being captivated. And maybe that's why I dreamed of my mom last night. My mind has been open to the possibilities that only fiction ever leaves you open to. I don't remember how it began or how it ended exactly. But she spoke to me. I have no conscious memory of her words or her voice. But her very presence was so str

I'm supposed to be getting ready to go to bed. I have to get up early and deal with the rental car that is the fall out of the destroyed tire that was 2019's parting gift to me. Instead I was struck with inspiration. Inspiration always wins out over common sense. I'm not a resolutions type of person. I fall flat in a matter of hours with those stupid things. It feels too much like someone else telling me what to do even though I'm the one who made them. And as soon as I feel too restricted I feel an overwhelming urge to rebel. Also resolutions always feel typical. Sure I could stand to lose weight - but that's not something I'm overly interested in doing. And if people don't want to be around me because I have too many chins or extra rolls around my middle they aren't exactly the type of person I really want to be associated with anyway. I'm a thematic person. I like the idea of choosing a word of the year, or a theme. I'm pretty sure last ye